


Verbena and Lemongrass

by LadyYlla



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2018-09-23 00:31:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 46,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9631706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyYlla/pseuds/LadyYlla
Summary: 15 years after Pansy Parkinson fled the only life she ever knew, she is forced to return and forget about her peaceful Muggle life. With responsibilities and a new Potion shop to tend to, running into Neville Longbottom hadn't occurred in her realm of possibilities. Finding out he owns the Herb shop across from her new place of work? Impossible. Fun and Fluffy and smutty!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own anything, surprise surprise. . . All Characters and plot ideas belong to JKR. I'm just taking them for a spin.
> 
> Warning: This story will contain swearing and sexual content.
> 
> Now that my Dramione is finished, I figured I'd start posting my new Pansy/Neville, which I still maintain should be called Nevinsy (my OTP)! The prologue is short, the chapters are longer. This story will be mostly upbeat, fluffy, a little romance drama, nothing to heavy. And hopefully very sexy. (wink wink). If you see any grammar mistakes, drop me a message, let me know so I fix it! Read and Enjoy!

Verbena and Lemongrass

Prologue

Ginny Weasley pushed through the door with both hands, leaning her weight into the heavy wood as she did, and left the chilly winter climate outside where it belonged. A happy and familiar brassy bell sounded out and she took a look around. The inside of the Three Broomsticks looked much the same since the last time she had stepped foot in the inn and pub, dark wood panels and the long mirror behind the bar, the warm atmosphere and the smell of whiskey and peanuts and butterbeer. Cozy booths and small high top tables invited couples to sit closer and the bar offered quick service when you were in need of a drink. It was familiar and warm, and her gaze lingered on her own reflection as it showed her in a long brown cloak with simple leaf brooch at the neck, a gift from her mother the day she turned 17, and her flame bright red hair showing under the hood. She brushed off the snow from her shoulders and stomped the ice off her boots before she looked back up to the mirror.

She only let her gaze linger a second before she searched the bar for her idiot of a best friend. A group of middle aged witches sat around a table laughing and happily singing carols between their sips of brandy and rum, a couple cuddled happily in the corner, and- ah there he was. Hunched over, disheveled, and - ugh - reeking of alcohol sat her very best of friends: Neville Longbottom. She walked up and pulled her wand with confidence, muttering a quick Augamenti, and watched happily as a swell of water poured from her wand over the wizard.

He sputtered and coughed, hollering out a "Bloody hell!". She allowed him a moment to recognize her, his eyes blinking and full of crust. His face was red from the warmth of the pub and, no doubt, mad consumption. Before he could utter another drunken word, the bell rang again, the sound of the front door thumping shut brought a strange hush to the room, but did nothing to take away from its warmth. Ginny turned on the spot, wand at the ready and willing to have even a drunk Neville at her back over a stranger, but relaxed when she recognized Harry Potter and her big-headed brother Ron under their snow dusted winter cloaks.

"Hey Gin. Thought it was our turn to pick him up?"

They had only just discussed it earlier that night over dinner at the Burrow that it was her turn to take Neville home from his daily binge. She gave her brother the best look of exasperation she could before turning back to Neville. "Nev - C'mon, let's get you home."

"No!" he shrugged off her touch and cradled his whiskey between his hands. "Not finished w' my drink…"

Ginny had hoped tonight wouldn't be one of the difficult nights, but it was becoming increasingly obvious that Neville was going to be exactly that: difficult. She turned back to Harry and Ron expecting them to lend a hand, only to see Ron shrug.

"Nightcap Harry?" he asked.

Ginny huffed and turned back to Neville. "C'mon Neville, it's time to go home. Madam Rosmerta only puts up with you because Hannah used to work here. I suppose she had expected to you properly bathe though…"

"Don't! Don't say her name…." Neville told his drink, his eyes drooping.

Curse the day Hannah Abbott channeled her inner Gryffindor and stepped between two feuding bar guests. They were drunk, she should have just let them beat each other up a bit and then thrown them in the cellar to sleep it off. Instead she got a hex to the side of her head and broke her fool neck.

That had been four months ago, a bare few months after the Battle of Hogwart's, and Neville had since been found every night in the company of cheap firewhiskey and a distraught Madam Rosmerta. Ginny thought him to be getting better, but then his Gran had passed away suddenly on Christmas Eve. With that cheerful thought, she reached for his mostly full whiskey glass and shot it back.

"There, your drink is finished. Pay your tab, and let's get you home." she insisted, signaling to the Madam for the check.

"No!" he shouted stubbornly, clutching the empty glass in his hand so tightly it shattered.

"Damn you Neville, you're acting only slightly more mature than Ronald right now." Ginny snapped, waving her wand to clear the harmful shards of glass. She ignored Ron's impassioned "Oy!" from the other side of the bar and examined Neville's wound.

His hand sported tiny cuts but the bleeding was minimal. She leaned over it, gripping his wrist tightly. "Ferula!"

Bandages shot from her wand and wrapped themselves neatly around his hand and fingers. Instead of thanking her, he grunted and lifted his head to the Madam. "'Nother round o' drinks for the lads, Rosie."

"Neville Longbottom! You are on my last nerve! I'm taking you home, now!" Ginny snapped and gripped the front of his dirty shirt with both hands. She hauled the man to his feet, barely. He stood half a foot taller than her and wavered dangerously as he tried to find his footing. She looked around for Harry and Ron, feeling agitated when she spotted them laughing over drinks and having a merry good time while she had to deal with Neville in his intoxicated state.

"No!" he shouted again. "I got nothing - hic - left! No Gran. No girlfriend… hic!"

He stumbled into his chair pathetically, nearly toppling it over and him with it. "Neville!" Ginny held him up right only just. "You do too have someone! You have me you big lumbering moron! Your best friend!"

And while she completely understood his loss, she could also understand how his was different. They had all lost someone in the war. Hannah had survived only to be killed by accident. It wasn't fair, not one bit.

His gaze met hers and for the first time that night he seemed to see her. "Gin?"

"Yeah, it's me you idiot. How would Hannah feel if she saw you like this? She'd think you pathetic! And that's the truth!"

"I…"

"Neville!"

"I can't go on, I can't move on… hic."

"Yes you can, one day, maybe not soon… but you'll be able to move on, I promise." she cooed at him, relieved her words were finally starting to get through.

His smudgy blue eyes shimmered with tears and he desperately needed a shave and a thorough moment with his toothbrush, but she didn't turn her face away. He swallowed once and started sobbing.

"I'll never get over her, Gin."

Sensing his defeat, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and Apparated him to his family home thinking Harry and Ron could bloody well deal with Neville's tab.

oOoOo

At the same time, in the dark of winter night, Pansy Parkinson stepped out of Gringott's Wizarding Bank with a pouch full of unfamiliar currency tucked safely into her black tunic. Her winter cloak was heavy and expensive, the fabric rich and smooth to the touch, with fine threads of gold and silver threaded in intricate designs along the edge of her hood and down the front. The brooch at her neck was gold, shaped into a delicate flower - a Primrose - with tiny diamonds embedded to give it a shine, and let everyone know she was made from money. It was a gift from her mother when she turned 17. Her hair was done in perfect black ringlet curls that fell down her back and flooded over her shoulders effortlessly.

She had barely stepped outside of the bank when the goblin that had escorted her during her visit, a nasty little thing named Berfk, literally shut the door on her heels. She indulged herself in a eye roll, while admitting to herself he was probably quite upset at her for emptying her vault, converting the gold, and waiting until almost closing to do so.

But she couldn't be seen, hence the late hour. Diagon Alley was mostly empty of foot traffic, only a few bar patrons making their way down Knockturn Alley for a drink or two while they were still on holiday could be seen.

Still, Pansy lifted her hood over her head and hid her face, checking to be sure her pouch was still tucked safely in her tunic, and securing her wand in it's rightful spot in her sleeve. If anyone tried to accost her while she made her escape, she would be ready.

Her fashionable boots made click-click-click sounds down the steps of the grand bank, but it was the only sound that could be heard. She turned her head towards the street that would take her to the Leaky Cauldron, steeled her breath, and made her way quickly and as quietly as she could. When the brick came in sight, she paused, looked around and made sure she was still alone even as her body trembled to be out of Diagon Alley as quickly as possible. When nothing jumped out at her, when no shadows moved ominously, she stepped into street light and lifted her wand. A few taps later, and she was hurrying through the door and into the Inn. No one stopped her. No one noticed her.

The front door creaked loudly as she opened it, and still no one even knew she was there. She took a deep, deep breath. Her feet froze to the ground even as her mind urged her to continue.

"Just breathe, Pansy Parkinson." she told herself, picturing her Mother, Peony, in her mind. The template from with Pansy had been cast, the witch urged her to continue and not turn back. There was nothing left for her.

Pansy's right foot lifted and stepped out into Muggle London. As she walked through the doorway, she shed the image of Pansy Parkinson, witch and Death Eater's daughter. She emerged into the dark street on the other side of the Leaky Cauldron and immediately bumped into the nearest of a couple of women.

"Oh excuse me there, I didn't even see you." the woman Pansy had run into said.

Pansy's hand lifted to the brooch at her neck. "Pardon me, I lost my footing." she said after an uncomfortable amount of time had passed.

"Dear, are you alright? You look a bit lost." the other woman said, she was taller and with keener eyes. Both women had their hands out to steady Pansy. "What is your name?"

Pansy shrugged off their hands, her own still clutching the brooch her Mother had given her. "My name is Primrose. And I am not lost. Not anymore."


	2. Verbena

Chapter 1:

Verbena has simple leaves, the blooms have five petals and come in a variety of colors from purple, to blue, to white, to pink. In summer it blooms a purple white. It usually has a citrus lemony smell.

15 years later…

Rose knew this day would come, had been planning for it the past year even, but still the empty flat that her, her daughter, and her late husband lived in had never looked so sad, never sounded so empty before. Everything was packed up and magically shrunken into her pocket, the floors and walls were clean for the first time since before Penny could hold a crayon or marker straight, and the windows were free from smudgy hands and wet dog nose prints. When Penny started showing signs of magic, Rose would walk into the room to see the paint changed to Penny's favorite color that day. Phil had just laughed. Rose tried not to cry.

She shook herself once and knew the time had come, if she spent another minute reminiscing about her late husband and the life they shared together in Muggle London, she would just cry. A year without Phil had proved Rose had the ability. And she had done enough of that lately.

The last thing she wanted was to return to her roots, to the world of magic, a place full of witches and wizards who might just recognize who she really was. But she had no choice.

Penny would be turning 11 next week, and after the summer would be attending Hogwart's School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, because her Mother, not her Father, was a witch. A witch who had run away years ago.

It had taken a few months, but Rose managed to buy a small shop in Diagon Alley, three blocks up from Gringott's and a short hop and a skip to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour.

Quaint was the word to describe the building. Tucked haphazardly between a shoe shop and a specialty quill shop, it had wide windows on both sides of the door, and a slanted roof that had a skylight. The layer of grime on the walls and counters left something to be desired, but a few hours with a wand and it was presentable again. Behind the store was a tiny yard she could plant a small garden, and on the other side of that yard was an old storage building.

Her old friend, and fellow witch, Daphne Greengrass had helped get the property in shape, turning the storage building into a place Rose and Penny could live. She helped update the shop after that. Together they painted the outside walls an engaging soft green color that reminded Rose of the mint ice cream she loved so much. The window trims they did in a dark brown to make the green pop. They shined the windows and replaced the heavy wood door for something lighter, something Penny could open easily, and added a small window to it as well. They left the door in the bright white it came in. The inside was easier, they painted everything white to maximize the light and added plenty of space for plants to grow between the shelves which would hold her line of potion product. She put a floor to ceiling mirror behind the register.

The shop felt open and airy after their intense makeover. It felt hopeful. And God knew exactly how much hope Rose was clinging to.

The shop, the house, and Penny's upcoming entry into the magical word, kept her from dwelling too much on the death of her husband, a Muggle man who would have willingly and proudly marched into Diagon Alley with Penny on his shoulders so everyone could see their talented, beautiful daughter.

It was all she could do to keep her mind off Phillip. The child Rose had been, the girl named Pansy Parkinson, would have snorted and gagged dramatically at the idea of falling in love with a Muggle doctor, of getting married to him, of having a child with him. But Rose was no longer that girl anymore.

She left behind Pansy Parkinson, a teenage witch, a few days after Christmas in '98 and emerged into the Muggle world Primrose Parker, an orphaned art student.

Primrose found a cheap flat to rent, went to school, met new friends, and forced herself to learn new joys in life. It had been incredibly hard. And it had been worth every second.

Exactly three hours after graduating, she met Phillip Russo. Fresh out of medical school, he was older than her by a few years, but handsome and sweet and he enjoyed Rose's sense of self-deprecating humor a little too much. A few dates and Rose had known she could've spent the rest of her life with him if he let her. He had felt the same. And for him, he did spend the rest of his life with Rose. Until the car accident.

By then their daughter had outed Rose as a witch, and Phil hadn't minded one bit. Penelope Harper Russo was a genius, creative, book smart, clumsy disaster of a child that couldn't keep still to save her life and had her mother's attitude from day one.

Surprisingly, motherhood had suited Rose a lot more than she ever expected. She had long traded her Pureblood society life for cheap movies and coffee dates with Muggles, left behind her heritage for a Muggle university education, and loved every second of it. Even the difficult parts where she felt horribly misplaced, that had been loads better than the magical world she had left behind. A place where, despite her efforts, simply outcasted her for her role in the war and her family connection to Death Eater's.

To come back …

And without Phil…

With one last look around the empty flat, she closed the door for good on that chapter of her life, already missing the simple and loving years behind her. She was prepared for whatever she would come to face, but she half wished she could hide away with Penny.

But that wouldn't be fair to her magical child. Hogwart's may have been a nightmare for Rose, especially that last year, but she knew from Daphne that the magical world was trending upwards these days. Years had passed since the war, and they were enjoying a peace time. It would be safe to send Penny to the magical school, and her child deserved to go, since it was her birthright as a witch.

That wouldn't stop Rose from doing her best to convince Penny to attend art school afterwards like she had.

Sighing, she made her way through the Leaky and into Diagon Alley, enjoying the Saturday sun on her face and the warm breeze that lifted her dark, messy curls off her shoulders. Her wand was tucked safely into the belt of her jeans, her worn, comfortable boots made click-click-click sounds on the cobblestone as she walked, and with every step she took towards her shop she felt more and more determined to make this work. She had too, for Penny.

As she walked she heard the familiar sounds of the shops opening and readying for the day, excitement growing as the opening date for her shop grew closer and closer.

The time spent living as Muggle had made her wandwork rather rusty, though she figured out quickly it was easy to pick up again. But it had given her time to work on her brewing. Phil had found the idea of her mixing up a potion hysterical, and at times sexy. He enjoyed it a lot more after the first time he had a cold and she made a Pepper-Up potion that instantly cured him of his runny nose. His skepticism had slowly faded over the years, until he was slipping some of his own patients potions when they weren't looking.

Her Potion shop came into view and she took a moment to appreciate all the hard work her and Daphne had put into making it look presentable. A handmade sign on the door informed that the shop would be opening soon and forums were available to begin placing orders if they wanted. The door had a drop box at the bottom and a slot for mail. Both windows had a built-in flower bed freshly soiled, and waiting for flowers to make their home there. Which reminded her she still needed to shop for a few plants to decorate the shop with and remembered she wanted to explore the shop diagonally from hers.

She had seen people coming and going frequently from the plant and herb shop but hadn't been in yet. She hurried across the street, returning the friendly wave of an older witch holding onto a copper cauldron and a bag full of leafy plants. Times certainly had changed since she was a girl living in this world. With a smile, she opened the door and listened as a silver and wooden wind chime burst with sound as she opened the door all the way.

Directly inside the door was a bucket full of tall lemongrass, the fresh citrus scent caught her immediately and she stopped to take a big whiff. The walls were lined with various herbs and garden supplies, the wide floor space allowed room for young trees, bushes, and flowers. Pots and bags of soil lined the wall to her left. Hanging plants hung from the ceiling randomly throughout the shop, leaving plenty of room for the sun to shine through the massive skylight. A shelf housed powdered and dried herbs on one side, and oils on the other. A wide arch stood opposite the front door and led directly outside to a massive garden. With every step she took further into the shop, the smell of damp earth and plants filled her nose.

She was in love.

She walked past a stack of cloth-lined baskets and picked one up, eager to shop. Gardening and brewing went hand in hand, the idea that this wonderful shop was just across the street from her potion shop made her excited.

Several other people were milling around, shopping and browsing, and in the far corner she could see a register and a tall bloke in a dark green apron helping a couple of kids with a Blubbering Birch tree that was several feet tall, and crying chunks of bark all over the counter. She smiled and made her way to the rows of flowers against the window. Several violet pansies winked at her, and she took a moment to be glad for her charmed brown eyes. She could never hope to go unnoticed in her old stomping grounds with her natural bright purple eye color.

Against the flower stand were several buckets full of verbena and creeping ivy, lavender and lovage, basils green and purple, and a dancing sprig of rosemary. She eyed the ivy as it slowly crept over the edge of the flower stand, making its way to cover a row of peeping poppies, and picked it up.

"I don't think you belong here." she told the leafs which immediately treated from her touch. She turned and saw a clever cage with other ivy plants and she placed the small pot just inside.

"There you go." she said happily.

"Thanks for that."

She turned to the speaker with the rough sounding voice, assuming it to be the bloke she eyed at the counter. It wasn't.

"Neville Longbottom?" she gasped, looking up to the tall and rather bulky figure before her. The man barely matched the boy she had known in school, but she saw the hints in his face. Messy brown hair with the same nose and kind blue eyes, not that those eyes had ever been kind when turned in her direction. His jaw was stronger now, and his face leaner and tan. He wore a blue and white stripped button up shirt with the sleeved rolled up over dirty, grass stained jeans and sturdy work boots with dried mud all over them.

"Have we met before?" he asked, crossing his arms as he looked down at her.

Her stomach turned uneasily thinking about the last time they had been face to face. Him, on his knees and in pain, with her pointing her wand at him while Alecto Carrow whispered nasty spells in her ear for her to use on the blood traitor Gryffindor.

For whatever reason, her first response was to put her hand over her nose. She felt the smooth downward curve of the petite nose a plastic surgeon had given her when she had accidentally broken it after tripping over one of Penny's toys and falling down a small flight of stairs.

He wouldn't recognize her without her old nose and unique eye color. And she was no longer Pansy Parkinson, snooty witch, bully, Slytherin, unhappy…

She was Rose Russo, mother, shop owner, artist... She smiled and held her hand out. "Primrose Russo. You can call me Rose. I'm opening the potion shop across the way."

"Ah…" he held onto her hand several seconds longer than necessary before letting it go. "Rose Russo?"

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear so she would have something to do with her hand instead of letting it linger in the air. "Ha I know… Red Rose. Russo is my married name."

"Ah…" he said again, looking a touch disappointed before he continued. "Well if you need any help I'll just be at the front. Let me know if you have any questions."

He walked past her with a nod and she felt the word bubble up before she could stop it. "Widowed!"

"Er - excuse me?" he turned back, his thick eyebrows raised in confusion.

Clearing her throat she tried again. "Sorry, I'm widowed. Russo was my late husband's name."

A soft expression came over his face, one she was all too familiar with. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Thank you, I just thought you should know my parents didn't give me a fairy tale themed name." she stumbled over her words and felt her cheeks blushing fiercely the longer he looked at her.

Finally his lips quirked up on the edges and he said, "That's always good. Let me know if you need any help. Rose."

He nodded again and left for the front just as she turned away and slapped her hand to her forehead. "I'm so lame."

She found it increasingly difficult to talk to members of the opposite sex the longer she spent without Phil in her life. Especially when they were tall, handsome, and obviously into gardening. Shaking her head, and reminding herself to get her shopping done so she could go unpack before Penny and Daphne got home later that night, she reached down for the bucket of verbena and stuck her nose into the purple blooms.

It was one of her favorite scents. She couldn't resist and grabbed the bucket of lemongrass too.

"Keep your head up Rose Russo." she told herself. "This is only the beginning."


	3. Primrose

Chapter 2

Primrose petals range from pale yellow to pink to white and a faint sweet, floral scent.

Neville lifted a bag of dragon dung fertilizer over his shoulder and decided he should grab extra just in case. Saturday's were his busiest day and with summer at the front door business was booming. Last Saturday had been busier than the Saturday before, and today was shaping up to be a big money day. Since he opened the store several years ago, his business has slowly gotten better and better. He had broken down and hired Ian to help him out on the register so he could work the floor. If business kept up, he might need another hand. He didn't mind. It kept his mind off… things. And kept money in his pocket.

It was easy to get lost in the bump and grind of the physical work that came with running the store, especially when he had help running the register. He could focus more on helping his customers and work with his plants. That's what took up most of his day. It usually went wake up, workout, work, work, work, count receipts, close the shop, go home, workout, eat, sleep. Repeat.

Sometimes Gin would make an appearance, force him to a Quidditch game, or Sunday Dinner at the Burrow with a million Weasley's and their children. Sometimes Luna would come around and keep him occupied with star readings and Quibbler chat. More often than not, he would meet Harry and Ron for a drink to catch up and play some darts. And sometimes he would meet a cute little witch and get a different kind of work out.

He didn't mind the simple life he lived, it kept his mind off… things.

He dropped the bags of fertilizer in the corner with the other types he carried, pointed out the shelf with the gardening supplies to a couple on a daisy mission, and made change for Ian, before he took a second to look at the witch that caught his eye earlier.

She wore her hair in two pigtail braids and she wore this paint-stained white button up shirt over jeans that cupped her ass when she bent over. He got a clear view of her bottom when she bent down to get a pot of creeping ivy that somehow found itself in the garden flowers.

She surprised him though, when she turned and put it back in its rightful place with a smile. It couldn't be helped, he wanted to put his hand in her back pocket and palm her ass and… other things.

Rose Russo. He could've sworn he had met her somewhere before, but he didn't recognize her name and couldn't place why she felt so familiar to him. Her basket was loaded, and she had several buckets of plants and herbs set aside for purchase. Even though she had sweet brown eyes that reminded him too much of Hannah, she was cute and hips that could kill. He was attracted from the start, but he didn't know if it was because of the jeans or the amount of money she was about to spend or because he hadn't had sex in 3 months. Not since Rebekah had dumped him over Valentine's dinner.

He turned away. He didn't need to spend any time thinking about that if he could help it. Once upon a time, he had the love of his life on his arm. Even after all these years, Hannah's brown eyes still haunted him, along with all the unfulfilled promises they had made each other. And that was probably why all his relationships since have failed. Miserably. It wasn't exactly Rebekah's fault that he was still hung up on his ex after all these years. Still, dumped on Valentine's wasn't the greatest thing that ever happened to him.

Just focus on work.

His mantra, his slogan, his way through life. He worked and kept himself in shape incase he ever had need to put the Auror's badge on again and run off fighting only God knows what.

"Excuse me, do you carry any Bart's Blood?" a voice asked from behind him, tearing him away from his thoughts about Rose Russo and the curve of her ass.

"Sure do, right this way." rolled off his tongue and he gestured the older wizard to follow him to a shelf on the back wall.

He focused on what he was good at. He tended his greenhouses and ran a successful shop selling potion ingredients and his plants, average, rare, magical, and anything in between. He made a good living off it, though he mostly just put the money away. He lived in the room in the back of the shop so he could avoid his Great Uncle Algie.

"Excuse me!" someone caught his attention and he walked them to the garden behind his shop.

When he finally got back inside, he looked for Rose Russo and spotted her eyeing up the essential oils. He watched her pop the top off the first bottle, bring it close to her nose, and take a long sniff. Her brown eyes rolled heaven forward, a look of bliss spread across her face, and he felt a stirring in his stomach that reminded him he hadn't had sex in three. Bloody. Months.

No woman should look that good shopping, Neville was actually kind of annoyed. Why was she getting such enjoyment from a stupid essential oil? Did she really like the scent of lemongrass that much? She had a full bucket of it already for fuck's sake.

He rolled his eyes and thought of Snape in his grandmother's clothing in an attempt to calm his rushing blood and went off to shoo some kid who decided swimming in the Stranglekelp pool was a good idea. Never mind the sign across the tank clearly said : DANGER.

He grabbed the kid the by the collar and lifted him out of the tank. "You okay, kid?" he asked.

"Sure thing, Neville!"

He had long since gotten used to complete strangers knowing his name and just shrugged it off as he checked to make sure no kelps took any damage. A vicious bit tried to wrap around his wrist, but relaxed when he pinched the base of the leaf. He was just untangling the bit of plant when he heard her laugh. It filled up the entire shop. He spun around, ripping the plant straight from its home. Her head was thrown back, a hand on her chest, as she laughed deep and long at something Ian had said.

Stupid Ian.

He stuffed the ripped plant into his pocket and walked towards her completely unsure of what he would even say.

"I think I have more than enough, thanks though Ian." she said sweetly as Ian rang her up for her items. Her voice reminded him of someone, though he couldn't place it. He'd probably met her before, in passing. His shop had been opened for years and before that he had worked as an Auror with Harry and Ron. If she spent any time in Diagon Alley, they'd probably met before… it just bothered him he couldn't place her pretty face.

"No problem. I can help carry your items to the shop for you if you need, Ms. Russo." Bastard Ian. How dare he provide good customer service.

"I can do that for her." Neville said. He scooped down and grabbed all her bags, threading his arm through the handles easily. "Lead the way, Rose."

She looked a bit nervous every time he said her name, and he liked it. A little. He really liked the paint stains on her shirt. And he could definitely make her laugh more than Stupid Ian could.

"Oh please, I can handle it. I have a wand you know." she smiled at him, grabbing her bucket of lemongrass. She held it in the krook of her elbow, and that matched with her pigtail braids made her look cute as hell.

"I'm sure you could." he started, looking her up and down. She gulped under his stare. "I'd love to see the new shop on the block though." he continued.

She let out a nervous laugh. "Alright, follow me then." she turned to Ian politely. "I'm sure I'll see you again, Ian. Have a nice day!"

He had definitely met her before somewhere, Neville thought. He just couldn't place her. Hmm.

Thankfully, she turned her back to him and started walking which gave him a very pleasant view. She led him out of his store and into the street, the breeze that hit the back of his sweaty neck felt refreshing and brought the scent of her mixed with lemongrass to his nose.

"How long have you worked here?" she asked him amicably as they walked to the slanted building that only a few months ago had been the eyesore of the block.

"I bought the place a few years back. Couldn't find a vendor I liked to sell my product."

"Oh you own the shop? It's charming." she gave him a sweet smile as she opened the door to her own shop.

He had seen the work done to the outside for weeks now, the slanted roof was fixed and the walls painted a pleasing color that would surely bring customers in, but the inside was more impressive. His steps echoed against the bare white walls as he took a look around.

"I scoped this building out when I was first shopping around, it was a mess. You did a good job restoring it."

"It was disgusting." she insisted, dropping her bucket by the door. "You can drop those bags anywhere. Thank you for carrying them over for me."

"Anytime. So can I get the grand tour?" he asked, once her load of bags were set gently on the wide counter.

She shrugged and it made her braids bounce. "This is pretty much it. Over here is a small closet and there's a back storage room."

"Where will you brew?" he wondered, and for some reason the question made her blush.

She led him through the storage room and through a slim door that led out back and he tried to flirt with her as much as he could. Every word made her cheeks flush pleasantly.

The surrounding buildings were fenced off, creating a small patch of ground directly behind the shop. A stone walkway divided it down the middle and led to another building.

"This is where I'll brew, and where my daughter and I will live." she said shyly.

He looked her up and down, thinking she was around his age. He silently thanked her unknown daughter for the decent curve in Rose's hips and looked at the building before she caught him admiring the curvy parts of her. "Here? Looks like an old storage building."

It went up about four stories and looked grimy and dingy from front to back.

"The outside still needs a bit work, but the inside has been renovated to my liking, would you like to come inside? I haven't been in yet. Today is moving day." she unlatched the front door, the large slate of wood slid up and over before the door cracked open.

He wanted to blow off work and really get to know her, physically. "I'd love to, but I better not leave Ian alone for much longer. Maybe another time?"

She nodded in affirmative. "Come over anytime."

His face broke into a grin. "I'll do that."

He left her blushing in her doorway and made his way to his shop to rescue Ian.

Later, after the sun had gone down and he had cleaned up the shop and started counting the till, the bell over his shop door chimed and he looked up.

"Heya Gin. What are you doing out and about?" he called to his long time, and very pregnant, friend.

"I had to get out of that house." she snapped sharply walking behind the counter and reaching into the cabinet where he kept cool drinks. She downed a juice and immediately belched loudly.

"That's attractive." he remarked, continuing his counting.

"All he does it dote on me, makes me dinner, rubs my feet, does all the housework…"

"Grounds for divorce if I ever heard it."

"... takes care of the wash, makes all the beds, plays with the kids…"

"I'm sorry I haven't been listening to a word you've said." he smirked as she huffed violently.

"Damn it Longbottom, you're being an ass."

"I know." he said as he closed up the register, and took his deposit to the back room. Ginny waddled after him complaining the whole time.

"We said we would stop after three, but no, here I am. I just wanted a back rub. I'm sick of him all over me all the time…

He locked his deposit in the safe and walked back out into the main room, taking his wand out to send a broom to get sweeping. He waved it again and cast a Misting Charm and then locked the front door.

"... constantly asking how I am doing, if I need an extra pillow…"

He wiped the counters and organized the shelves before walking into his room in the back. She followed slowly, the swell of her pregnant belly significantly larger than the last time he had seen her.

"... if I need water or warm milk…"

"Gin -"

"He's just so nice! I'm sick of it!"

"Ginny please-"

"And his damn kids, they all are so nice! They get that from their father. When I was a kid, I had George and Fred and Ron to pick on me. Toughen me up."

"Hey Gin!"

"What!?"

"You want a drink?" he asked, holding up his half empty firewhiskey bottle.

She slapped his shoulder. "NO! I'm pregnant!"

"I noticed. You seem stressed." he took a large swig from the bottle and collapsed into his bed.

"I am not stressed, I am tired of being doted on and needed someone to complain to." she sat on the bed next to him and immediately began rubbing her belly.

His room had a large bay window on one side that looked out over his garden and into the street on the opposite side from his shop. Neville had propped it open earlier before he opened the shop trying to get some fresh air in the room.

This time of year, nights could still be a bit chilly, but during the summer couples would walk by with giant ice creams and families would run around in the grassy area. Now he could see a single figure walking down the street with a giant purse and something clutched between her ear and shoulder.

"Looks like Daphne Greengrass." Ginny remarked.

"Yeah… wonder what she is up to these days?"

The retreating figure marched down the sidewalk with quick steps and disappeared from view just as a small owl landed on the window sill and hopped in, dropping a note on Ginny's belly.

"Oh bloody hell, it's Harry."

"Did you tell him you were leaving?"

She scrunched up her face at him. "... No."


	4. Peony

Chapter 3

Peony is a large, fragrant flower that blooms in colors from white to pink to purple to red.

Rose watched him walk away and heaved a sigh of relief. How odd was it that Neville Longbottom was flirting with her? Even as she told herself it was only because he didn't realize who she really was, she still felt like it was odd. Every time he said her name she felt nervous and wondered how he would treat her when he learned the truth. She wanted to be settled into her new life before anyone figured it out, if Neville Longbottom was going to be working just across the street from her, would she be able to keep up the pretenses?

Truly, she was Rose Russo more than she was Pansy Parkinson. But Daphne still called her Pansy sometimes, and with her move back into the wizarding world other people were sure to drop by to see her if they figured out she was there to find.

She thought briefly of some of her childhood friends and wondered how they fared after the war's end. It wouldn't be long before she figured it out, she guessed. For now, she had a house to set up, a shop to get in order, and a raging heartbeat she needed to calm.

Because there was just the tiniest part of her that really liked the way Neville flirted with her. Liked the way his eyes roamed over her curves. It had been so long since such attention had been lavished on her by anyone other than her husband, she'd forgotten what it felt like.

It had taken about a year for her to take off her wedding band, and then some time still to get used to it not being there. Neville hadn't looked at her ring finger, but he had spent time looking at her overly large hips.

She just couldn't tell if it was in appreciation or disgust. But then he had flirted with her until her cheeks had turned red so maybe he liked what he saw.

… And maybe she was spending too much time thinking about it.

She left the front door open and pulled out her wand, opening all the windows in the large storage building she had converted into a home. The ground floor was two stories high, with large windows on both sides that once opened allowed the summer breeze to come in.

The walls were painted white, waiting for Penny's creative streak to color them in. On the back wall of exposed brick she set up a kitchen with extra sinks so she could brew and a wall of cabinets to hold their art supplies and kitchen items. A large island had a six-burner gas stove and more storage. The floors had been filthy, even after an intense session with Scourgify, so she had poured black concrete over them until they gleamed. Now they looked clean and shiny and ready for her to set up furniture. She dug into her pocket and pulled out the tiny cardboard box she had brought over from her old place.

During her time living in the Muggle world had humbled her to magic, she had rarely used her wand if she could help it. But it was times like this she felt like magic was in order. She waved her wand and directed and, with some time and some satisfaction, her and Penny's house unfolded before her. Art supplies went into the cupboards, dishes and pots and pans went to the island, clothes and beds and dressers shot upstairs and grew into their right size. Rugs unfolded and chairs pushed under the table. Art work went up on the walls and white and blue curtains draped the windows, fluttering in the summer breeze. An hour after she started, her house was unpacked and in order so she turned her attention to the shop while she still had the time and the energy.

She put what product she had in the storage closet and turned to the bags Neville had left on the counter. Sitting right on top was the bottle of Lemongrass Oil she had decided she didn't absolutely need and didn't purchase. She thought back and tried to remember if she had changed her mind and bought the small bottle, but no… she was sure she hadn't.

Neville though… had he been watching her?

"That man…" she wondered how on earth she was going to deal with Neville Longbottom. She didn't want to lie, but coming right out and telling him her real name would surely put him against her. She assumed he was single, since he had so blatantly flirted with her and wondered how he had fared after the war. She tried to remember if she had read anything about him in the months before she escaped and hadn't looked back but nothing came to mind.

All she knew, she knew from knowing him in school. And that had been years ago.

She popped the top of the bottle off and took a long breath, inhaling the intoxicating and fresh scent that she adored. She placed a few drops on her neck and rubbed them into the skin.

Damn… he made her smile that smile. The kind of smile Phil had no problems bringing about. She admitted it could have been the fresh scent, but the man was smooth leaving the oil for her to find like that.

She held back a sigh and tucked the bottle into her pocket, trying to think about anything other than Neville Longbottom, and spread her newly acquired plants across the counter. At the bottom of one bag she found the wind chimes she picked to place above the shop door. With delicate chiming, she moved them to the hook above the front door and the moment they stilled, she felt intensely satisfied.

And then startled when the door flew open and Penny came in in a whirl of color and feathers and chatter, followed quickly by Aunt Daphne who had about a million shopping bags in her hands.

"Penny!" Rose scooped her up in a twirl, spinning her daughter around. "What are you wearing?"

"It's a Feather Hat, Aunt Daph got it for me." her daughter told her, posing for a brief second to show off the cap with the bright purple and pink feather sticking out of the top.

"Fancy! Are you ready to see the new house?"

"Are you ready for me to paint all the walls?"

"Yes, I even have the paint supplies unpacked." she said crossing her arms.

"Then YES I AM READY!" she double fisted the air and took off out the back door in her usual energetic manner.

"Oh she knows where she's going apparently." Rose laughed then hugged Daphne. "How was your day together?"

"I get more cardio running after her than on the treadmill." Daphne said, dropping her bags onto the counter.

"Treadmill? You went Muggle?"

"I love it. Not as much as my cell phone, or as much as my laptop, but I think this relationship can work, I like when my hips stay small." Daphne lifted herself up on the counter and looked around. "I like the greenery. Where did you get it so fast?"

If there was anyone she could talk to about her encounter with Neville it would be Daphne.

"Oohh this charming little shop across the street. I went in and got caught up in the euphoria of all the herbs and flowers and oils and then I turned around and bam. Ran right into him."

"Him? Who? Ran into who?" Daphne raised a single, perfect blonde eyebrow, intrigued by her story already.

"Oh this tall roguish man, dreamy blue eyes, bulky arms and shoulders, these solid red lips…"

"So you've met the most perfect man apparently. While I was entertaining your daughter."

"You weren't entertaining, you were trying to keep up. Don't try to fool me." Rose scrunched up her face in Daphne's direction as she begun to hang her plants and flowers around the shop.

She shrugged and returned the funny face. "Back to the perfect man please. You're single now, I get to live vicariously through you or I get nothing at all."

"Excuse me, didn't you just go out on a date with Witch Weekly's Mr. March?"

Daphne sighed dramatically, prolonging the sound for as long as she could. "Rosie… he Marched away with my heart. Now don't make me ask again!"

"Ask about what?" Rose shrugged teasingly. Daphne was her best friend, but she wanted the witch to beg for it.

"Mr. Perfect?"

"Perfectly handsome, perfectly flirty, perfectly and totally... Neville Longbottom." she let the irony be heard.

Daphne's lips formed a perfect 'O'. "I need you to use small, simple words."

"Neville Longbottom owns and runs the Herb Shop across the street, and he flirted with me. And looked at my ass."

Daphne fake fainted off the counter and fell to the floor dramatically.

"Daph! You have been spending too much time with my daughter."

"He's hot."

"He doesn't even recognize me." Rose said. "I introduced myself as Rose."

"Rose, crazy idea but… you could tell him the truth. It's been so long, I work with a bunch of Hufflepuffs, they don't care that I'm a Slytherin."

"Because you stayed out of it." Rose regretted the part she played in the war, however small it was. But it had taken a long time for her to come to terms with it, to accept herself, to believe she deserved better. "It's different for me."

"How would you know, you've been gone." Daphne hopped up and started rearranging the plants Rose had put out.

"Isolated. I've been isolated not gone, not totally gone. And we better get in the house before Penny destroys it." she said, changing the subject.

"She doesn't destroy, she violently nurtures." Daphne said with a tenderness. "My niece will rule the world one day, a Pirate Queen at the wheel of her ship."

"And her mother will be running behind her cleaning up." Rose said, walking out through the back door.

"And her Aunt will be at the Helm, getting all the attention from strapping scantily clad pirates." Daphne said, walking behind her.

When Rose walked through the front door the sounds of stomping and running water could be heard directly up the spiral set of stairs. "Are you staying for dinner?" she asked Daphne.

"Of course she's staying!" Penny shouted from above them.

They just laughed.

oOoOo

Later, having ran Penny into exhaustion in the yard tilling the soil and setting up pickets and rows for them to plant in later, Rose tucked her daughter into bed and kissed both her cheeks. "Goodnight. Sleep tight. Don't let the bedbugs bite." she repeated the words Phil had said a million times.

"Mama, are bedbugs a real thing?"

"Yes, though thankfully for your mama and her magic wand, your sheets are clean and bedbug free."

"Will I learn how to get rid of bedbugs at Hogwart's?"

"You'll learn a lot of things, if you pay attention to your teachers." Rose tucked Penny into a cocoon and stood. "Window open or shut?"

"Open, it smells different here, didn't you realize?"

Rose took a second to smell the breezy night air the filled the room. "I grew up with that smell baby girl, it's the smell of magic."

"Mama, tell me again why you ran away." Penny asked, though her eyes drooped because of the late hour.

Penny had gotten the abridged version of why the girl Pansy Parkinson had run away from her magical life, but never really understood that Pansy wasn't a good person. Rose didn't want to nurture the thought that her daughter's mother wasn't the good mama she knew so she said, "If I hadn't, I never would have met your father and I never would have had you baby girl."

She leaned down pressing a kiss to Penny's forehead and smoothed back her flattened hat hair. "Goodnight mama."  
"Goodnight child."

"Mama."

"Child."

Penny smiled and rolled over, promptly falling asleep. Rose took a bare second to admire the colorful images Penny had painted on the walls in her room, knowing the girl would surpass any artistic talent she had. Rose could sketch and her favorite was using charcoal. But Penny could do it all. She dimmed the fairy night light Aunt Daphne had gotten and closed the door, feeling exhaustion from her day catching up. The house was set up, and most of the plants she had bought earlier had been set up in the shop. The shelves were just waiting for her product. She planned on simple everyday potions, and her specialty lotions and shampoos. Nothing terribly fancy, but enough to get a wide range of customers in.

She could just imagine the full shelves and the chimes over the door going off and hoped not for the first time that she hadn't made a mistake in bringing Penny into this world. But Penny was a witch, her bright purple eyes were a mirror image of her mother's and a trait inherited from a long line of pureblood women. She needed to be here, even as Rose had told her all about her family history and magical background, it was still different growing up in a Muggle life than a magical one.

She just didn't want Penny to inherit any of Rose's past prejudices, and growing up Muggle had done just that. Thankfully, Penny took after her father in most aspects. Her dark hair wasn't as dark as Rose's, and her face was longer and softer. And she was kind. Smart and kind.

Clutching her chest for the swell of love she felt, Rose made her way down the spiral stairs to make sure the shop and house were all locked up. Tomorrow she would plant the purple peonies underneath the shop windows since it would get the best sun there. When she saw them, she couldn't resist. The fragrant petals reminded Rose of her mother and of a time when the girl Pansy enjoyed playing in the garden while her mother planted for the spring and summer time. It felt appropriate to pick the joyful flower to plant as a welcome to her shop.

The night air was warm and lively, summer almost in full bloom. She couldn't wait to see how the months played out and thought briefly of the man across the street, leaving the bottle of Lemongrass Oil for her to find. Her heart skipped a small beat and she sighed.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 4

Aster is a star shaped flower that can come in a variety of colors. (Also plant to save the bees!)

The shop was closed Monday's and Tuesday's, so Neville used to the time to catch up on paperwork if he had any, and tend to his greenhouses. It was usually a quiet two days he spent by himself that he desperately needed after the busy weekends. His hands buried in the dirt, the physical assertion, the smell of his garden that he poured his energy into… it was relaxing and necessary for his sanity. It kept his mind from wandering to the witch he had long ago lost and gave him an excuse to ditch Ginny or Luna if they tried to bug him into spending time together.

This time it was different. He spent the entirety of the two days thinking about the new witch on the block and wondering where the hell he knew her from. She had been surprised to see him, but offered no explanation only a name he didn't know: Rose Russo. But of course, like most of the wizarding world, she may simply just recognize him from his unwanted and long lived fame after the war. But there was something... he just couldn't place it. He knew her. Maybe.

Monday he went to bed exhausted, and fell into easy sleep thinking about Rose's bow shaped lips and wondering if she went to school with him. Maybe she had been in a different year, and that would account for the familiarity even if he didn't recognize the name.

Tuesday he felt obsession setting in, and he wanted to figure her out so badly and preferably while his cock was buried to the hilt inside of her. It was easy then, to fall into fantasy thinking about her.

He opened the shop bright and early on Wednesday morning, feeling relaxed(if a little frustrated) and determined to run into Rose again. Looking over to her shop, he wondered. Would he see Rose in the mornings? Would she become a part of his work life? Would he mind? Nope. He wouldn't mind at all.

He was hoping to get a glance of Rose, instead he saw another witch… and groaned. He had completely forgotten about his plans for that evening. "Maggie." he greeted the woman.

Maggie Mobley ran a small book and magazine shop three streets down from his own shop. The shop was okay but Maggie was beautiful. And young. Neville rubbed his jaw in thought as the witch caught up to him, leaning up to place a kiss against his lips.

"Hi Neville." she purred. Well he had taken her to his bed for a reason. She knew how to make men want her with her perfectly done hair and makeup, her outfit clinging tightly to places a man wanted to touch.

Asking Maggie out had been an impulse, not unlike most of his other dates. He just wished he could remember, was she after Julie and before Rebekah or? Maggie had been around, and he had asked her out. It ended with her in his bed much to both of their delights. Of course, he never got back together with her after that until she walked in a week ago and he needed sexual relief like crazy. Still did.

But then he had met Rose.

"Hello Maggie." she stepped back and put her coffee to her lips, doing her best to look sexy. Hell she did look sexy. "Still on for tonight?"

"You can pick me up at my place. You remember where that is, don't you?" she grinned and walked away before he could respond. The moment she walked out of his line of sight, he turned his gaze to Rose's shop and set his mind to think about a different witch.

She seemed quite interested in using his shop as a supply for her own and he decided he wouldn't mind if she did at all. He wanted to see her again. Then he could figure out where he knew her from. And if her lips were as kissable as they looked.

As he opened the front door, using a solid but empty planting pot to hold the door open, he glanced over to the potion shop again. He just wanted a glance of the witch his mind wanted to pick apart… there she was. She walked out and propped the door open herself before she turned and took a big breath of the fresh morning air. Wearing a pair of shorts with a bright pink tee shirt underneath an unbuttoned long sleeved white shirt, she looked summery and healthy both. The sun glinted off her dark hair and Neville couldn't stop himself from ogling her thick thighs that sat beneath those hips he admired so much. She had all the right curves. She hadn't noticed him yet and he took advantage, getting his eye full while he could.

She smiled again and turned back inside, vanishing for a brief moment before she reemerged with the peonies she had purchased the day he had met her. She pulled a set of gardening gloves from the back pocket of her jean shorts and tugged them on while also pulling out an old set of gardening tools from a pouch he hadn't noticed, and then she got to work planting her flowers beneath the large windows that sat at the front of her shop. He wanted to drool. A witch gardening? There was nothing hotter than garden sex. Fucking a woman right into fresh dirt, sure it could get messy but it was worth it every time.

Oh hell, I need to get laid! He thought to himself. Maggie would surely do the trick, but damn he wanted Rose if he were being honest.

She was a sight, he thought. He wanted nothing more than to join her, gardening being his ultimate passion and spending time with beautiful witches came as a close second. But someone had to open the damn shop, and Ian only worked weekends. Stupid Ian.

But instead of going about his opening duties, he watched her bend over, hands full of dirt, her fully rounded ass sticking in the air briefly. Beautiful witches that also gardened?

"Holy shit I need to get laid." he said outloud to himself, biting his lip before turning back into his own shop before he decided to keep it closed another day.

Wednesdays were usually slow, and he hadn't expected much, but after a few hours with only a few sales he decided to set up a chair outside so he could watch Rose work and go over receipts while he could. The sun had browned her legs and arms a bit, and her hair was messy with the work. And when she kept reaching up for the tall planters and her shirt would lift just enough to flash a belly button at him. So distracting.

After a few minutes, Rose noticed him, and she lifted her hand in a happy wave. A wave he returned with a smile. She blushed a little and went back into the shop. He crossed an ankle over his knee and started adding numbers in his head, enjoying the fresh air and the sounds of the hustle and bustle of Diagon Alley coming to life around him. Time passed by, and a pair of witches walked into his shop. He greeted them cordially and asked if he could help.

"Just browsing. Hey you're Neville Longbottom right?" the younger of the two asked with a shy smile.

"Sure am." and sometimes he wished he wasn't. If he had known how life would've turned out… but it was done.

"Nice to meet you."

"Let me know if I can help you find anything." he said, standing and moving into his shop. He watched the two walk around browsing from behind the counter, busying his fingers with the tulip bulbs by the register. So he missed it when another witch walked in.

"Excuse me, Mr. Longbottom?"

He looked over his tulips and down… down to the small girl who stood in front of his counter with paint smeared on her face and clothes, a sketch pad held to her chest by her arms.

"You lost kid?" he said, leaning over.

"Nope I know exactly where I am." she insisted. Something about her dark hair and faded purple eyes struck him as familiar, but it was the paint that gave him the idea.

"You Rose's kid?"

"Yes sir. Penelope Harper Russo, sir. My mama said you have a garden in the back and I was wondering if I could visit for a bit, please?" she asked, bouncing on her heels the entire time.

He eyed her sketch pad again, not sure what to say. He settled for a, "Why not?" thinking it might mean Rose would come looking and he would get another chance to see her.

The little witch took off for the garden, her braids bouncing on her shoulders as she went. He felt a little bubble of delight form in his chest, a feeling he usually got when he was around Gin's kids.

He got busy then and let his work day take him away. Lunch came and went and he hadn't eaten yet when his watch beeped at 3 o'clock on the dot.

"Hey Neville." Finally.

"Hello Rose Russo." he turned and eyed up her dirty clothes and dirt stained knees. A witch after his heart, he thought. "Back for more?"

He put as much charm into as he could. He much preferred this witch with dirt on her cheek and knees than the dolled up Maggie.

Her cheeks blushed at his flirty tone. "I'm going to ask the question every mother dreads asking, but have you seen my child anywhere? About this tall, dark hair, probably had a sketch pad or some paints?"

"Ah ya, she's out back. Sketch pad." he winked.

"Ooh. Excuse me while I just go yell at her for wandering off by herself in a strange new place."

"S'all good. She's welcome to come over. So is her mama." he told her, watching the blush on her cheeks turn into a solid red. He walked by her to go greet one of his regulars that had just walked in, caught the scent of fresh dirt and lemongrass coming from her, and had to forcibly stop himself from leaning in and taking a kiss from her right there in the middle of his store. Instead he leaned in and whispered, "Anytime." as he walked by.

oOoOo

Rose watched him walk away with a smug smirk on his face, knowing full well her own face was red as a beet. Men didn't usually make her blush, but knowing Neville was coming on strong mixed with her secret until she felt like any relationship between them would be a horribly bad idea. It felt… dangerous. Add in the attraction between them… why was the first man she actually felt a spark for since Phil died have to be Neville Longbottom of all people? When he found out who she really was… well...

Shaking her head, she watched him greet an old and wrinkled witch, a regular based on their conversation, with a kiss on the cheek before he helped her bring her items up onto the counter. The two times she had been in his shop, and he seemed to know everyone by name. He had a handle on everything. He moved with a steady grace, unlike his younger self, and had a confidence she admired in men.

Phil had been confident. And kind. Everything a lonely recent art grad needed in a boyfriend. Gah, she wondered if she would ever be able to think about a man without comparing them to her late husband. She had been doing it all morning, while planting her flowers at the front of her shop. She had felt his eyes on her while she worked, burning more than the sun had. And damn her if she didn't enjoy it. Phil had looked at her like that too once upon a time, a look that made her body hum with anticipation.

She shook herself, attempting to get her head on right.

She strode out into the garden, immediately spotting Penny's dark head of hair between a row of sunflowers and a row of aster, the yellow and red contrasting brilliantly. Of course her daughter would want to come here to sketch, the colors alone were amazing. Where Rose preferred to use pencil or charcoal, her daughter went for the paints. Where Rose preferred to sketch people, Penny went for landscape. She couldn't wait to see what Penny had done so far, knowing Aunt Daphne had bought her favorite niece a magically color changing pencil. But first...

"Penelope Harper Russo."

Her daughter's head popped up, eyes wide with the knowledge that she was trouble. "Er - hey mama…"

"I told you not to go roaming around Diagon Alley alone."

"And I didn't go roaming… I just crossed the street! You said the garden was awesome back here!" Penny stomped over, brushing dirt off her shorts.

"Ahh. Think of how pretty my garden will be… when I feed it your murdered body." Rose threatened, grabbing Penny's hand.

"You can't kill me, mama. There are people that will miss me, okay?"

"Who?"

"My Aunt Daphne!" Penny insisted, clutching her sketch pad tightly.

"Nah, I've known her longer. She'll side with me." They walked back into the cool shop and Rose gave another small wave to Neville behind the counter, her mind immediately thinking about his flirting and his very solid arms. Why did he have to be so… fit?

"Ugh!" Rose threw her head back dramatically. "You need me!"

"Not really, I could just make another child. Why don't you thank Mr. Longbottom before we leave?"

Rose rolled her eyes before reaching the counter.

"Hey kid." Neville leaned forward, crossing his arms on the counter. "I held her off as long as I could."

"At least someone here is looking out for the little people." Penny said, shooting Rose a death glare.

"Little bodies are easier to bury. You know… the term grounded?" Rose grinned at Neville as she smoothed Penny's hair back, trying not to laugh at her own bad joke.

"Mama!"

"Completely unrelated, I'm sure."

Rose kicked the ground and then said sourly, "Thanks for letting me hang out in your garden, Mr. Longbottom."

"You're very welcome Ms. Russo."

"And if you haven't heard from me in a couple of days, send help." Penny deadpanned.

Neville laughed, and Rose felt her heart pounded at the sound. "Of course. I'll send the troops."

His eyes met Rose's, and she felt her entire stomach do a flip. Of course, she was attracted to this man, the spark was there, he was obviously interested… and he was nice to her kid.

Why, oh why did it have to be Neville Longbottom?


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 5

Lavender is a flowering herb that can be used for oils or soaps.

Penny's birthday was lovely. Rose woke her up early with french toast and fresh fruit and they ate until they were too full for another bite. They planted Lavender by the door for luck and rubbed the leaves between their fingers to soak in the scent of the pretty purple flower. Then they painted and made a mess until Daphne and Astoria and a young Scorpius showed up with a trove of expertly wrapped birthday presents and chests of new clothes and shoes. It was perfectly lovely, and Rose only had one moment of sadness when she thought of Phil and how it had been two of Penny's birthdays since he had died.

Later, while Astoria took Scorpius and Penny to organize Penny's new wardrobe and pack for their trip, Daphne and Rose sat at in the bar stools by the island, eating cake by the forkful, as Daphne attempted to assure Rose that Penny would be just fine. Because every year the Aunts took Penny for a weekend to Paris and every year Rose had a minor panic attack. This year, she sublimated with strawberry cake covered in thick chocolate frosting.

"That's your third slice." her friend teased, even as she dug into another slice of cake of her own.

"If anyone asks, it's my second." Rose listened to the giggles coming from up the stairs, happy that the last week was over and her and Penny had mostly transitioned into living in Diagon Alley.

"She'll be just fine, you realize."

"I know."

"We go every year."

"I know."

"And she has a great time… every year."

Rose took another big bite of cake.

"You'll have a long weekend to yourself."

"Yep."

"Time you need to get your shop opened."

"Mmhmm."

"Time to take for yourself…"

"What is your point, Daph?"

"Neville Longbottom is at your front door."

"What?!" she swiveled on her seat, forkful of cake halfway to her mouth, and stared dumbly at her empty front door, which had been propped open to let the warm summer air in.

Daphne giggled behind her fork. "You like him!"

"I don't." Rose insisted, turning back to her mean friend and thinking about the other night. "He obviously has a lady friend, and it is none of my business. I have way too much on my plate to worry about a little…" she dropped her voice. "Crush."

"Just tell me again what exactly happened."

"Well…" Rose looked at the stairs, listening for squeals and giggles. The truth was that Penny had taken a liking to Neville and his garden, finding herself there in the afternoons, rain or shine, sketching and talking to Neville about herbology and asking about Hogwart's. And whenever Rose was around, the man would lavish her with attention, with flirty looks and sexy words that had her breath hitching and her palms turning sweaty as she tried her very best not to blush.

But it was hard when he was so damn sexy. And he was nice to her kid…

So the other night she had gathered her courage and marched out to invite him to dinner, consequences of her true name be damned, only for her to find him pressing an insanely beautiful redhead against the side wall of his shop, his fingers between her legs and their lips locked in a kiss straight out of a romance novel. Rose had stood staring for a long time, unable to process how someone could possibly kiss for that long without passing out. And then another feeling settled in her stomach, one she hadn't felt since before Phil had died.

Desire.

It flared bright and hot right in the bottom of her belly until she had to jog around the block a few times to get mind off it. By the time she got back home there was no sign of her neighbor or the gorgeous redhead, but her mind took over and supplied her with many ideas on exactly what they could be doing.

"Go on… tell me!" Daphne insisted.

"Well…"

Loud squeals of delight filled the house as Scorpius yelled for his mother to cease her tickling right that moment.

"Astoria looks better." Rose changed the subject immediately, pushing thoughts of her neighbor back in her mind.

Daphne rolled her eyes as she wiped her mouth with a colorful linen cloth. "Yes yes, my beautiful once very sick baby sister was saved by the Hero Harry Potter from her Infertility Curse that was slowly killing her after Scorpius was born and now she's pregnant with twins. Old news. Tell me about -"

"So glad you think so much of me sister." Astoria said, descending the stairs with one hand on the railing and the other cupping her overly swollen belly. "Penny is all packed!"

Rose jumped up, forgetting about the remainder of her cake and ignoring Daphne's put out look. Her daughter came stomping down, taking the steps by two. Her hair was tightly braided to the back of her head and she wore one of the new outfits her Aunts had gotten her.

"Paris here I come!" she said twirling, allowing the long white skirt to swirl around her ankles.

"Do you have everything? Toothbrush, socks, sketch pad?"

"Yes, yes, yes! Let's go!"

"Wait." Rose leaned down, grabbing Penny by her collar. "I love you. Behave for your Aunts. Be nice to your cousin. Be safe. Have fun."

"I will, I love you too, I will, I will, I will, I willllll!"

"Ugh this just gets harder every year!" Rose said, kissing both Penny's cheeks before turning to her nephew.

Scorpius had his white blonde hair perfectly combed back and his smart yet casual dress robes pressed nicely. "My nephew, I love you. Behave for your Mother, be nice to your cousin, be safe, have fun!" and then to mess with him, she ran her hands through his hair and mussed it up.

"Noo, stop Aunt Rose!"

She turned to Daphne. "If Penny gives you any lip, feel free to just leave her by the orphanage."

"Mama!"

Astoria laughed. "Come on darlings, the Portkey will be leaving soon. Goodbye Rosie."

"Bye Mama."

"We'll talk when I get back, Rosie."

"Bye Aunt Rose!"

Rose followed the group out through the garden and out of the small gate between the shop and the next building. The gate had been an awful brown until Rose painted it all white, and Penny went at it with zeal. Now there were tiny flowers and flowing ivy all over the wooden boards. She shut the painted gate door closed behind her and waved off the group as they made their way noisily down the street.

"Have fun! I love you!" she called, thinking about years past. Every year for Penny's birthday Daphne and Astoria would take her for a weekend away to give Rose and Phil some time alone. Then it became tradition. Seeing as the Greengrass sisters were the only people from her old life she still talked to, Rose started calling them Aunt until Penny copied her. When Scorpius was born, Astoria returned the favor. It might've been an odd dynamic, but it was family. It was better than what the girl Pansy Parkinson had growing up.

She leaned against her gate and let her mind get lost thinking about the oddities of life. So much had changed for her and her daughter, the death of her husband, the move, her occupation change, the anticipation of Hogwart's… and yet some things remained the same. Penny's braid disappeared around a corner and the noise level dropped considerably for the little street Rose lived on. The sun baked the tops of her shoulders and she could smell the fragrant peonies she had planted.

"Hey." Some things were the same... and others...

She lifted her head to his voice, her mind immediately assaulting her with images of him and the redhead engaged in a sexual act that made her bite into her lip just thinking about. It ignited the flame in her belly.

"Hey Neville." she said to him. He walked towards her, wearing grass stained jeans and a tight fitting button up shirt in blue. The sleeves were rolled up just like they usually were.

"Where is she off to?" he asked, lifting a small pot up for her to see. A small, red cactus sat in the middle of the rich, dark soil.

"A long weekend with her Aunt's and cousin. Did you get her a present?" she took the small pot in her hands, sucking in a small breath when their fingers brushed slightly. He didn't notice.

"As long as she promises to take care of it. It's rare. But properly taken care of, it'll grow and bloom a flower every night. The petals will be different colors. I thought it a proper gift for a miniature gardening artist." he smiled, shrugging his hands into his jean pockets.

He stood casually with decent posture, and he stood with an appropriate amount of space between them. But still she felt as if he were too close, the fire in her belly making her think of the way he he handled the redheaded woman. The way he crowded her against the wall. The long year and a half it had been since she had been physical with her husband stretched behind her…

"That's a perfect present. She will be back on Monday, I'll give it to her then." she held the pot gingerly in her hands, looking down at the round and plump cactus. She needed to think of something else to say, he was looking at her expectantly and she couldn't think. The seconds stretched into a minute and she felt her throat growing thick. Finally she blurted out, "How was your… date the other night?"

His eyebrows rose in surprise. "Maggie? It was fine. How did you know about that?" he asked, giving her odd look.

"I saw you two… walk back. Sorry, nosy neighbor. I was out to check my peonies. Sorry."

"No problem." he leaned in slowly, as if trying to make her more uncomfortable. He had pretty blue eyes and his lip quirked up on one side, drawing her eye. She could lean up and kiss him. Maybe he would kiss her like he kissed the redhead...

She shook herself and stepped back. "Would you like a piece of birthday cake? I have a ton of birthday cake."

His half grin turned into a full smile and her stomach did a full flip at the sight. "What kind?"

"Strawberry with chocolate frosting. Of course."

"Of course, I would love a piece of that." he said slowly, focusing his eyes on her.

The gesture had her entire body tightening, knowing she would have to turn around to go through the gate to get to the cake she offered. She forced herself to slowly turn and unlatch the gate, feeling his eyes linger on her backside. She tried to ignore the way her body responded, trying to convince her heart to stop thumping so quickly beneath her tank top. He had a girlfriend. A redhead. A gorgeous redhead girlfriend that wasn't her.

He followed her along the stone path through her tiny garden and to the house where the front door was still propped open, his eyes taking everything in.

"This is the ground floor, and it was clean the day we moved in." she laughed nervously, trying to fill the silence. Scattered all around were paint supplies, easels, empty jars, baskets of brushes and used paint colors. Potted plants and completed canvases leaned against walls and windows. Stacks of towels seemed to pile around in random corners. A low, long book shelf to the right where several chairs and a couch were arranged to look out the windows created a cozy nook.

"I like it." he said honestly.

She smiled and led him to the back wall, where her half eaten 'second' slice waited for her next to the rest of the cake. "Okay, how large of a slice do you want?" she asked, picking up the cutting knife and grabbing a small plate.

"As much as you're willing to part with." he slid easily into the bar stool she occupied earlier and she set the cake in front of him, offering a fork. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

They polished off their slices of the delicious cake, Rose doing her best not to let her eyes linger on his lips too much as he took big bites, before she cleaned up the island as best she could. Unlike before, whenever they found themselves talking, they didn't fall into comfortable conversation. She couldn't get her mouth to form words when she could only think about kissing him. Finally he stood, wiping his hands on his dirty jeans, and she felt the words blurt out before she could stop them. "So are you and Maggie seeing each other?" Once upon a time, she had tact. This was not that time.

He gave her that same odd look. "Maggie? Definitely not. She's just a friend." he said the words slowly, licking his lips afterwards as he leaned in towards her.

She gulped, her brain scrambling as she thought if that was the way he kissed a 'friend', how would he kiss someone he actually liked? And then he was very close to her and he smelled like dirt and green, growing things.

"Feel better, Rose?"

She jumped. "What do you mean?"

"You have a bit of frosting on your lip." he said, grabbing her wrist when she lifted her hand to wipe at her mouth.

The moment of physical contact sent her into a buzzing bundle of nerves that only got more shaky the more he leaned in, though his hand was steady as he held her wrist. His mouth parted and he gently sucked her upper right lip into his mouth, taking the small bit of frosting for himself.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 6

Passion flower is an exotic looking, creeping vine that can grow white, purple flowers around a berry. Also said to be an aphrodisiac

When she made the smallest of whimpers in the back of her throat, Neville knew the chance he had taken in kissing her like that paid off. And paid off big. At first, he thought her to be of the shy type which was fine. It just meant he needed to take his time and get to know her. To coax her, to seduce. He set his mind to it, thrilled to have a new witch around to play with. But having Penny hang around his shop during the day lately, he kind of figured out from her that Rose wasn't actually shy. She'd just been out of the game for awhile since her husband died.

He understood that better than most men would, he reckoned. Losing Hannah had been the worst day of his life. He had never felt so hopeless before, and hadn't since either. It had taken a very long time and more than a few whiskeys to get his head back on straight. Yeah… he could understand her hesitation to get back into the dating game. He respected it even, and determined to make his seduction a slow one. It would be all the better for it.

But when she mentioned Maggie for the second time he caught the flash of desire in her eyes and wondered just what had been going through that pretty little head of hers.

He decided to speed things up a bit. It was just good fortune she had chocolate frosting on her lip and the moment he grabbed her wrist, he knew he mirrored her desire.

Her wrist felt delicate in his grip and he watched her wide brown eyes as he so gently sucked her upper lip into his mouth, sucking off the frosting, and listening to her short breaths. He had kissed so many women, enjoyed their company whenever he could, so he knew what he was doing. He knew she was enjoying their first kiss. He saw the moment she gave in and leaned closer, her big brown eyes fluttering shut and her raised fingers intertwining with his own.

What he hadn't expected was the way it made him feel. His entire body tensed and hardened until he dropped her hand and grabbed her by the shoulders, wrenching her away so he could look at her properly.

She didn't look like Hannah… except maybe the eyes. No, maybe not. Hannah's had been browner, bigger. Hannah had been taller, with golden skin and curly red hair. Smiling all the time. Hannah had been Hannah.

He studied Rose's features, watching as she struggled for breath, her face ragged with passion, and tried to figure out what made him feel like that. What it even was that he felt. But she didn't look like Hannah. Rose's hair was dark black and thick and fell in messy curls and waves down her back, her skin milky white, her lips a pink bow. The two women were different. Totally different. And one was dead. Dead for 15 years.

"Neville?" the word slipped past her trembling and bruised lips. In the back of his mind, he knew that she was familiar to him, more than just a passing face he might've once seen before. And maybe she was keeping a secret from him about it, but she wasn't familiar because she was like Hannah.

He moved his hands up from her shoulders, sliding up her neck, and spread his fingers to cup her cheeks as he tried to figure it out. He held her face close to his, looking at the smooth sweep of her nose and little scar at the bridge. He wondered how she got the scar and if she minded his own scars.

This witch wasn't Hannah Abbott, and yet the feeling in his chest was so achingly familiar to her he didn't understand why it had returned after all this time. After all the women he had been with to find it again, why was it back now? What was it about Rose Russo that inspired the gentle feeling?

When no answer immediately presented itself, he leaned in again and resumed the kiss before it went away. And he didn't hold back this time. Wrapping his arms around her, he placed both his hands under her pretty pink tank top and flush against the skin of her back. In the same movement he angled his head and took her lips in another kiss, holding her against his body until she stood on her tiptoes and breathed his name between breaths.

And he felt it all over again, his body went hard and his heart thumped heavily and he knew in that moment that this witch, Rose, was different. And he wanted her.

"Where?" he asked, sliding his fingers into her hair to hold her head back as he kissed his way down her throat. She smelled like fucking Lemongrass and sunshine. "Where?"

She didn't pretend to misunderstand. "Upstairs. Top floor."

He eyed the spiral staircase and laughed out loud. "Make it challenging for me then, why don't you."

She gave him a bewildered look before he swooped down and picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder at the waist. Her wide hips felt thick and heavy against his arm as he held her firmly, even as she gasped and wiggled to be put down.

"Neville Longbottom! Just what do you think you are doing! I'm too heavy! Put me down!"

"Not a chance." he laughed, taking the steps two at a time as he hauled her all the way up the top floor. Once there, he looked down over the railing to the see the ground floor and the front door, which was still propped open. The front facing wall had a million different sized and shaped windows, some open, some closed, but they all looked out over Diagon Alley.

Rose struggled to be let down, hitting him in the back as she wiggled. "Neville!" Though he ignored her to take his wand out and magically shut the front door before turning around and marching through the double doors that led into her bedroom. Once those were shut firmly behind them, he walked them to the bed and deposited her there with a playful bounce. He took a quick look around, noting the wide windows and the sturdy wardrobe. The long, high desk with sketches overflowing each other scattered this way and that. He saw the vase with a single passion flower bloom floating in water and he remembered that this witch gardened. His erection grew immediately. Looking down at her, he wanted nothing more than to hold her down and fuck her until they both came together. Multiple times.

She looked up at him like he was crazy, her hair beginning to fall from it's clip at the back of her head and her tank top twisted around her torso, revealing that pretty belly button to him. She immediately turned to the side, attempting to get away but he grabbed her by the ankles and pulled her down as he descended closer to her. She had no choice but to bring her hands to his shoulders and bask in the waves of heat rolling off him as his body pressed hers into the mattress.

"Wait - "

"Rose, I won't hurt you." he said coming to a stillness so close their noses almost touched. His dark blue eyes bore into hers and demanded absolute seriousness.

There was no hesitation, no question in his gaze. He meant exactly what he said and his eyes promised it. He felt her relax ever so slightly and he took the moment to enjoy having a soft, warm body beneath him. He leaned in the bare inch between them and reinitiated their kiss, wrapping his arms around her waist. She slowly mirrored the action much to his delight, and he pressed harder into the kiss. Soft lips on hard lips, they kissed for a long time as his hands explored her body and hers pressed into the skin of his back, underneath his shirt. When he brushed his thumbs under her tank top she made that throaty whimper again and he nudged her legs apart gently with his jeaned knee.

Slowly, so slowly, she unbuttoned the small white buttons that went up his shirt until she was pushing the flannel off his shoulders and then he was wearing only his work boots and his dirty work jeans. He spent several minutes kissing and breathing hot air against her neck and collarbone all the while his thumbs rubbed circles into her hips and ass and he resisted the urge to rip off her little black shorts and plunge himself completely inside her. He was desperate to get the rest of their clothing off, but he steeled himself from rushing. She was taking her time, running her hands over his bare chest and back, feeling every ridge and muscle and scar she could. And fuck it felt amazing.

Slow and steady. He told himself, continuing to rub those circles into her skin with his thumb, kissing the hell out of her, listening to her little whimpers. Her fingers dug deeper into his skin and he couldn't help when he thrusted his hips against her, pushing his solid erection right into her core, two sets of denim separating them from true connection.

She gasped away from the kiss and her eyes rolled back into her head, the heat a tangible thing between them. Slow. Slow! He went as slow as he could possibly go, kissing her lips, her jaw, her neck and back again, slowly moving his hips against hers. He had to get their remaining clothes off, and quickly, before he drove himself mad with how fucking slow they were going.

Thrill raced through his veins as it often did when he made love to a woman, but this time was edged on by something more and he made himself enjoy it, feel every moment. Kissing his way down her throat again, she arched her neck to give him better access and he found the source of the wonderful lemongrass scent rubbed into the skin there. Gods bless him for having the good sense to give her that bottle she had been eyeing in the store.

She made a needy sound again and he looked up to check on her. Her face was flushed with desire and her lips red with worry, her eyes closed as she enjoyed him. Slow. Steady. He reminded himself.

He lowered his lips again to her warm skin, kissing his way below her throat then down in a straight line across her flushed chest. Her breath pushed her breasts tight against the cloth of her tank top and he felt the erotic movement against his neck. He pushed his hands up from their place at her hips, slowly dragging the calloused fingers across the skin on her sides up to either side of her breasts all while kissing the skin of her chest. He kneaded gently into her breasts, just as he kissed the space between them. When she resisted he looked up again, only to see her sit up slightly and tug the obstructing top over her head and throw it to the ground urgently. Her bra was black and lacy like her shorts, her breasts straining against the soft fabric.

He grinned at her needy look, happy to know his touches were driving her just the right amount of crazy. She liked her breasts to be kissed and touched and he put the information away in the file of things he wanted to remember about Rose Russo. Instead of returning to their original position she pushed on his shoulders and he allowed her to push him into a sitting position he didn't plan on staying long in… until she straddled him.

"Bloody hell." he mumbled the moment she wrapped her legs around his hips and her arms around his shoulders. They returned to kissing as he ran one hand into her hair, pulling the clip out, and the other hand up her bare back, coming to the clasp of her bra and unhooking it with ease. The straps fell down her arms but she was so consumed with the kiss she barely noticed. He had to push her back watching as he released both the bra and her mass of wild black hair at the same time. The hair tumbled down over her shoulders like a dark halo as the bra fell between them, exposing her bare breasts to him. Her nipples peaked, large and thick, the skin around them a dark cherry red.

The moment slowed and then seared into his brain permanently, never to be forgotten and he wondered yet again why this time was different, why this witch was different. His breaths turned ragged as he took her in, all creamy white skin surrounded by her long tangles of black hair, the dark nipples begging to be kissed and sucked on, her swollen red lips and heavy brown eyes that bore into his own. He couldn't possibly be harder for her. But the moment the bra fell and landed between them was the moment he lost her.

oOoOo

She realized just how naked she was, with a man who wasn't her husband, and all her confidence shot right out the window. Not only was this man not her husband, but it was Neville, who didn't even realize her real name. The very second she felt his hot breath against her bare breasts, their eyes met and all logic and reason previously absent returned to her with a hard kick. There was a reason why she hadn't actively asked after him, a reason why they shouldn't date… shouldn't do what they were currently doing.

She felt her face turn beet red, and not from desire either. How could she sleep with a man while lying to him about who she really was? She had been relieved in a sort when she spied him with that other witch, Maggie. Because it gave her a great excuse to stop thinking about him. Why oh why did she have to invite him over? How the hell did she get into this situation?

His deep blue eyes were heavy with lust as he looked at her and it did everything to ignite her passion, with just that one look. She wanted him so badly, the place between her legs were soaking wet and warm, held back by only the thin fabric of her shorts and panties. His kisses were addictive, his lips dragging her further into her desire. She had been on the verge of saying no, because it was the right thing to do, when he had said just the absolute right thing to say.

"I won't hurt you."

Now she was straddling him.

"I'm sorry - Oh Gods I'm sorry. I can't."

"Hey hey, it's okay. We stop when you say stop." his words were right, but the look in his eyes said he was going to fuck her right there on her bed until she didn't know anything else.

"I - I -"

"What can I do?" he said, his hands rose up her sides again, until his thumbs were under her breasts. One little movement and those thumbs could be on her nipples, sending her into orgasm if he knew what he was doing. Her damn nipples had always been so sensitive, and Rose didn't doubt for a single second that Neville knew what he was doing.

"You don't - you don't even know me." she said finally, her lip quivering as emotion crashed through her. She wanted him. But guilt had her thinking about Phil entirely too much to be having sex with another man.

He seemed to see what she was saying, but his hands remained exactly where they were. "So tell me." he leaned forward bringing them impossibly closer. "And Rose? It's okay to think about him."

"How can you think it's okay for me to think about my husband while I'm … while we're…"

And the look he gave her reminded her that he wasn't some shy, stumbling Gryffindor she once knew in another life. The arrogance on his face made her very aware that this was a man, a man who knew who he was and what he was doing, who had grown up. "Because when I'm having sex with you Rose Russo, you won't be thinking about another man." he said in a stern voice that had her heart jumping. "I'm saying it's okay to feel… guilty because he never left you, he died. Hell if I was married to you, I would never leave willingly either."

"I …"

"I understand." he insisted. "There is nothing wrong with missing him. It took me a long time after -" he paused, swallowing hard. " - Hannah - died for me to feel anything for someone else. And like I said, you say stop and we stop."

His admission shocked her to the core. "Hannah… Abbott?" she said without thinking.

His eyebrows shot up and his hands tightened briefly on her torso. "You knew her?"

She swallowed and nodded softly. "I'm sorry I didn't know she had passed."

They stayed silent for several long moments, both of them looking at one another as they tried to work out how they felt. He rubbed her sides gently and without the haze and heat of sex it tickled her. Giggling, she wiggled trying to get away. He smirked dangerously and held onto her tighter. It was exactly what they needed to clear the air of their dead loves. "There." he said, leaning up to kiss her softly, a small press of their lips. "Now we know each other better."

His hand went into the tangle of her hair again, the other wrapped around her waist holding her to him. And she realized they fit together like two pieces that had been missing each other. He rubbed his stubble rough jaw against hers. "Can I make love to you now, Rose Russo?"

His question shot her to the moon and she completely forgot why they shouldn't. "Yes, please."

He untangled himself from her, only for long enough to rid himself of his boots and socks and his jeans. She took the moment to push her shorts and panties down, kicking them off before scooting up to the head of the bed and laying back on the pillows. She watched with heavy breaths as he undressed and bared his erection for her, enjoying every hard line of his body. He sunk into the bed beside her and rolled up onto his elbows, bracing himself above her. It was a perfect, tender moment as they looked into each others eyes.

Hearing that he understood exactly how she felt, what she needed, worked just as good as any foreplay. And he was already good at that. She watched as he reached between them, placing a heavy hand on her thigh and pushing it up over his waist, before he positioned his erection right against the slit between her legs.

It had been so long since she had last had sex, she worried it would affect her performance. She felt him nudging her just as he descended on her, dragging her into a kiss that rocked her entire body. He kept his eyes open as he kissed her, and she did too. The moment he entered her with a slow, unforgiving burn, her vision split and she knew she was right.

He made love to her until she knew nothing else.


	8. Knotweed

Knotweed is a perennial and invasive weed.

The day she opened her shop, the heavens opened and poured down rain. It came hard and quickly, knocking shingles off her roof and revealing several leaks throughout the entire building. The rain came down in sheets that made it impossible to see in any direction. Rose would've been surprised to see anyone out and about on a day like this. And it sucked.

Water seemed to be everywhere, and the raging storm kept any customers away. In fact, it was just after lunch when she got her first and only customer: Daphne. Not that she would've been able to accommodate anyone at that point. She could get a small boat and float through her shop.

Daphne immediately pulled her wand out to dry her clothes, only to realize the inside of the store was just as wet as the outside and instead began helping Rose fix the cracks in the roof. After the initial storm passed and only the heavy downpour remained, Penny abandoned the two witches in favor of jumping around in the mud and puddles out back. And Daphne thought that would be the perfect time to mention the neighbor across the street.

It wasn't her ideal Grand Opening, far from it, and with only Daphne there Rose was being bombarded with questions about what had happened with her and Neville over the previous weekend. Rose, soaked to the bones with rain water, waved her wand at one of the smaller leaks. Water droplets flung from the precious wood and fell onto her once clean counters.

"How exactly do you know anything happened at all?" she asked, practically yelling over the pounding of rain outside.

"Because every time I mention him, your ears turn an unbecoming shade of red." the witch snickered.

A box of mint and aloe lotion floated by Rose sadly. Grand Opening? Hardly. It was literally flooding in her shop, her supplies strewn every which way, her plants were limp and drenched and the contractor she hired to fix the roof was going to be getting a very nasty letter from her.

A snarky reply about her red ears was on the tip of her tongue when the door opened again and the howling wind drowned the room in noise. How Penny could be out playing in this, Rose had no idea. The child was pure chaos so maybe the storm recognized her as one of its kind. She turned to the door and whipped her wand in the same direction. A sopping wet figure in black robes, spelled to rebel water, walked in and struggled to shut the door. The moment the door was bolted shut again, the figure turned and lowered his hood.

"Neville Longbottom!" Daphne exclaimed happily, despite the fact that the two of them were absolutely drenched. "How lovely to see you! How's that shop treating you?"

Jealousy flared to life as Neville stomped through the ankle deep water and gave Daphne a one armed hug and greeted her just as happily as she had him. "Doing well! Still can't believe the great price you got for me on it. I closed for today… crazy rain. How's your business going?"

Damn it all to hell, Rose thought. They knew each other?!

"It's going well, thanks for asking. So you've met my good friend Rose Russo already haven't you?" The emphasis on her name wasn't lost on Rose, and the glare she sent Daphne couldn't be helped.

"You two know each other?" Rose asked in the most normal voice she could conjure.

"I'm his real estate manager darling, I'm sure I've mentioned it before."

Neville turned to Rose at the moment, eyebrow raised in question, and the moment his back was to Daphne the witch gave Rose a signature evil smile. The day Rose told Daphne about running into Neville, her friend acted surprised. Kiss a Fire Crab, Daph. The witch had known all along who her neighbor was!

Neville however, did nothing but cross his arms and give her a lopsided grin that brought forth memories of the weekend they spent together in bed, a weekend she was desperately trying to forget about. "You need some help Rosie?"

She stood there, soaked to her bones, hair dripping down her back, as her store literally fell apart on its Grand Opening day. Help? She needed a lot more than that. "I think I'll be okay." she lied instead. She needed him to leave. His hair was wet and he needed to shave, and no man should look that good. Or was it simply because she knew what he was capable of when the clothes were off?

"Oh pish! I think this situation could use a man's touch, don't you Rosie?" Daphne said, brandishing her wand and continuing the previous chore of getting the holes in the roof plugged up.

Rose rounded her eyes on her friend and tried to communicate with silent words that she was being the biggest thorn in her side and could she please shut IT. Neville only laughed, and dug his own wand out from the depths of his rain boots. "Let's see what I can do to help." he said kindly.

She bit her lip and tried to focus on the task at hand, but Neville's presence made her feel like a step out of sync. Why did he have to be so nice all the time? He was nice to everyone, his customers, his neighbors, his friends. He was nice even when he was grumpy and didn't want to be nice. He was even nice to her and she couldn't bloody well stand it any longer. Her brain shut down over the weekend, allowing her to take the time to be with him. And she was with him. On the couch, on her bed, by her desk, in her reading chair, in the shower.

She had to turn the picture of Phil the other way, because it was a Muggle picture and he couldn't leave himself. When the guilt threatened to overtake her, he would say the nicest things to her, he would say the right thing, and suddenly she was all over him. How one man could understand her so well…

She spent Friday and Saturday night in his arms, drowned in desire, withering in his pleasure. On Sunday, when she woke up in his arms feeling satisfied and warm and wanted, her brain clicked back on when she realized she was actively lying to him.

How was he going to feel when he realized that she was Pansy Parkinson? A witch that had tortured him 15 years ago? The Death Eater's daughter that tried to out Harry Potter? Honestly! How the hell did she get into this situation? She hadn't planned on lying to anyone, and she definitely didn't plan on sleeping with her neighbor either. Especially when the neighbor was Neville. She blamed herself. Penny had gone to on her yearly trip and she was feeling lonely.

When Daphne mentioned Neville earlier, her ears had turned red as a rose. Because she was embarrassed with herself. She was a liar. And Neville was going to hate her when he found out the truth. And how would Penny feel? She was becoming quick friends with her gardening neighbor. How the hell was this all supposed to play out?

"Damn it all to hell." she said under her breath.

"It's okay Rosie. We'll get it cleaned up again." Neville said, assuming she was speaking of the disarrayed state of her shop. "I'll help."

Of course he would.

"Thanks, Neville." she said instead of what she really wanted to say.

"Yes Rosie. We'll help!" Daphne laughed, and when Neville wasn't looking Pansy blasted some water at her, though it didn't deter her in the slightest.

The roof wasn't really fixed, just patched together with magic and a prayer. And when they decided the roof wasn't going to leak anymore, at least for a day or two, they banished the water and dried out the store. She salvaged as much as she could, but a lot of her supply had to be thrown away. And that was just too depressing to think about, so she threw out the bad items and dealt with the rest. The whole process took another hour and the rain poured the entire time. When they were finished, she gestured to the back door. "Come to my house and get dry."

Daphne walked through first, leaving her alone with Neville. Before she could dash through the door after her friend, he tugged her wrist pulling her back. He slid his hand into her hair and pulled out a single leaf of knotweed from the tangles. His fingers on her wrist were burning, and she sucked in breath attempting to calm herself down. She had to get away and figure this out before she got in too deep.

Except… he was leaning in to kiss her and he looked so damn happy. The moment before his lips touched hers she turned her head away. "I - I need to grab Penny."

His hand let her go and she rushed through the doorway out into the garden, deeply regretting the moment she offered him a slice of cake and invited him into her home. The rain was impossibly heavier, but she could clearly see Penny running around in her bright purple and pink raincoat, her matching umbrella raised to the sky like a saber. She did a couple of cartwheels, the mud splashing in every direction.

"My child…." she said, unable to help the smile or the swell of emotion that usually came with Penny's chaos. Daphne and Neville stood with her and they all watched as Penny stopped dead in the middle of the garden, muddy and wet, her umbrella pointed directly above her.

She shouted, "I CALL LIGHTNING!" before running around again, cackling madly.

Rose slapped her hands over her face, groaning. "She's going to get herself killed at Hogwart's!"

Even as Neville and Daphne laughed at her, Penny did it again. Stopping in the middle of the garden, Rose looked up just in time to see the purple umbrella thrust into the sky popping open suddenly just as Penny cried out, "LIGHTNING!"

A crack of thunder boomed loudly over them, as lightning split the sky and struck downwards hitting the edge of the specialty quill shop next door. Their hair all stood on end and Rose felt her heart stop. A second passed… two seconds… and then Penny's knees crumpled beneath her.

"Penny!" Rose darted forward but Neville was already there, catching Penny before she sank into the mud. He picked her up, cradling her as he rushed into the house. "What the hell was that?!"

Neville sat Penny on the couch, her hair was sticking out in all directions and her umbrella was burnt on the top. Rose sank to her knees in front of her child, looking into Penny's rounded purple eyes.

"Penny?!" she shouted again.

She stirred, seeming to shake it out. "That… was the coolest thing that has ever happened to me!"

Rose turned and sat against the couch, putting her hand over her face to breathe a sigh of relief. Her child literally summoned lightning to herself, and thought it was cool. No, the coolest thing that ever happened.

"My kick-ass little Druidess." Neville said and when Penny held her hand up for a high five, the man returned the gesture with zeal.

"Don't encourage her!" Rose said. "You scared me half to death! You are lucky that lightning struck the building and not you!"

"Lucky?! I wield the power of the elements! I WILL BE UNSTOPPABLE!" Penny jumped up, flinging mud and water all over the place and stomped her way upstairs to do only God knew what. Overhead, she listened as Penny ran around her room before a garbled, "LIGHTNING!" sounded through the house right before there was a giant crack of thunder close by.

Daphne handed her a hot cup of tea that smelled heavily of chamomile. "You don't think she's actually…."

"No way … it was just coincidence…. Right?" Neville said looking out the giant window on the side of the house. The storm was beginning to rage again, lightning flashing this way and that against black rolling clouds.

Rose shook her head struck by a sudden thought. "You know that little theory you told me about when Penny was born?"

Daphne sat on the couch, using her wand to clean up the mud and water, with a thoughtful face. Then she turned to Neville, who was doing the same, and said, "Your friend, the Granger girl wrote a paper. But it was discouraged because older generations thought she was biased."

Neville finished drying himself off and pointed his wand at Rose. She tensed, flashing back to 7th year. Afraid of being outcast by other Slytherin's, and knowing her Father would disapprove of any unruly behavior, she followed the Carrow's around like a puppy and let them whisper in her ear. She let them control her and didn't think twice about it. Except once.

The first and last time she ever used an Unforgivable, and the evidence of it was on Neville's face. The horrible feeling of causing someone else the worst kind of pain, the way she had to force herself to do it, otherwise Alecto would've punished her… The little silvery scar by his left eye, put there by her old wand. The emotions of that night came flooding back, until it felt as if it just happened. She closed her eyes and prepared for whatever punishment Neville would deal out to her. A punishment she deserved. When he knelt by her and began drying her clothes, she blinked away the past and looked back to Daphne afraid of what her face had shown.

Neville said, "I think you might mean the paper on Muggle Borns? The one about how Muggle blood might enhance magical power?"

"That's the one." Daphne said.

"Penny isn't a Muggle Born though?" Neville asked.

"No. Her father was a Muggle though. And… she was… Conceived and Born during a Thunderstorm." Rose mumbled. "But no I'm sure it is just a coincidence."

Neville collapsed into the couch. "Just being around her energy is exhausting, how do you do it all the time?"

"I was genetically chosen." Rose deadpanned. She was still sitting on the floor, back against the couch. Neville was on the couch right next to her. She looked over her shoulder at him when she felt his fingers brush the back of her neck under her damp hair.

They got lost in each other for a long moment, both of them reliving their time together. The hard slide of their bodies, the complete adoration he smothered her in, exploring their own intimacy without interruption or fear or distraction. But damn it, she couldn't and shouldn't be doing this with him. If she didn't -

"Well this has been fun, but I'm late for dinner with the Malfoy's." Daphne said, causing Rose to jump. She had completely forgotten her friend was even there.

"Malfoy's? Oh… don't… well - er - have a good time." Rose stuttered out, jumping to her feet. "Do try not to gossip so much, won't you?"

Daphne laughed slowly. "Sure darling, sure. Neville, nice to see you again. And ignore Rooooose, she has a tendency to be so dramatic."

He waved goodbye, but his eyes were glued to Rose. "Sure." he mumbled to the door as it shut.

She couldn't put enough distance between them, even running to the other side of the kitchen she could still feel his eyes on her. And she wanted to die. Who cared if that was as dramatic as Daphne said.

The earth could come up and swallow her and that would just fine with her. She and Neville had a sexathon over the weekend. It had been intense, achingly deep, soul altering sex that you couldn't just walk away from afterwards. Like her favorite song on repeat, he filled up all the little pieces of her until she laughed and cried, and he had breathed her name when he came. But it was the wrong damn name, and now she was so thoroughly fucked.

Literally and figuratively.

She felt like she led him on. She was lying to him whenever someone called her Rose, even if it was her legal name now. She felt like… her old self. Even if she hadn't meant it, it was something the girl Pansy Parkinson would do. And it made Rose sick to her stomach.

He didn't deserve it, and she couldn't bare to tell him the truth now. He would hate her.

"Rose." he said from behind her, and she clutched the edge of the counter for support. Her mind flashed to all the things she needed to do, all the supplies she needed to replace, her brewing order to get it all done in the best time… anything to distract her from him and his touch.

His hands came to her hips and held tight there. "Rose." he said again.

"Neville please…"

"What's the secret?" he said slowly.

She gasped, sucking air in so hard and quickly she started choking. Lack of air turned her face bright red.

"Rose!" he patted her back, confusion and worry all over his face. "Damn it, tell me what's going on!"

"I'm all right. I'm sorry." she took deep breaths but the edge of panic was there. He was too close, her secret too big. Tears were forming in her eyes when he let go suddenly and reached into his pocket, pulling out a bumpy galleon.

She took the moment to turn towards the sink, away from him, and orient herself. Penny thumped and bumped above them and a song started playing loudly. The rain pounded outside. The noise was enough to focus on, and when Penny started singing at the top of her lungs, Rose blinked away the panic and the tears and turned to face Neville.

"I have to go, Gin's in labor." he said, looking down at her.

She could only nod.

"Tell me, please. Tell me what's going on." he insisted, not moving a step.

She swallowed and met his eyes. "I can't Neville." She thought the tears were gone, but they came roaring back, spilling from her eyes. "I can't! You'll hate me, I can't - I can't ever apologize enough for what I've done to you… it'll never be enough."

"What… what did you do? What are you talking about?" his voice rose a bit and he looked lost as he tried to figure out what she could mean.

And she wanted him to know the truth even as she knew she couldn't tell him. She lifted her finger to the scar on his eye and gently rubbed the dip there. "Oh Neville, don't you know who I am?"

He held her eyes a long time, confusion apparent across his face. He didn't know. He didn't understand. He clutched the coin in his hand tighter and looked down, breaking eye contact.

"I have to go…" he said stepping back.

She turned away and felt herself sob when she heard the front door open and close again. The entire floor smelled like rain, and she let herself get lost in the seductive scent and the melody coming down the stairs from Penny's room.

"Mama are you okay?"

She looked down to her daughter, surprised she didn't hear her coming. No. She wasn't okay. "Yes baby. I'm fine. Are you okay?"

Penny nodded jovially. "I'm fine, but for some reason I'm starving!"


	9. Jade Plant

Jade Plant is a succulent with small white and pink flowers and richly green, round leaves. Also said to be a wealth plant, or a good luck plant.

After leaving Rose's place confused and uncertain about what exactly was going on with his witch, he arrived at Ginny and Harry's overly crowded house to find pure chaos had taken form. And that was saying something considering the amount of time he had spent around the energetic Weasley family in the past. He had never before seen them acting so crazy and loud before. And it didn't take long to figure out why.

He left Ian in charge to open the store on half hours and Neville spent the following week spending what was in his opinion entirely too much time with his friends and their families. He helped with the laundry and the dishes, he played with the joyful kids and even spent a considerable amount of time cradling the surprise newborn twins allowing Ginny and Harry to get some rest. But he had to fight off the rest of the family from hogging the newborns too much. He had always had a soft spot for kids, and it didn't take a therapist to figure out why. Since he was a bit of a night owl, he got his cuddle time in when the rest of the world was resting, and Ginny and Harry didn't complain once. Especially when they found themselves resting peacefully surrounded by the love of their family and their children. Now they added twins, a girl and a boy they named Arthur and Winifred to the fold.

Neville watched all week as Ginny gave Harry a 'hard' time, yet they all knew she was deeply happy with the curve ball life had thrown her. With Teddy back from Hogwart's for the summer, everyone was home and together. With friends coming and going, Neville did his best to stay out of the way but it was hard. Especially with Mrs. Weasley darting about with as much energy as the kids, loudly wondering just when Neville was going to settle down? And he better not think she didn't know about his promiscuous behavior on that north Diagon Alley street.

The truth was he never thought of his behavior that way before. He liked women, and women really liked him. He wasn't committed to any of them, and they all knew that going into it. At first he had been trying to replace Hannah, then it was just his life. Auror training turned into a career, which turned into success, which led him to buy his shop. And all the while he found solace in the comfort of his garden and women.

There was a big part of him, most of him, that felt pure joy for his best friends. He felt genuine happiness for their successful marriages and their growing families. That they had all managed to find a partner to love and cherish, to grow with. His mind flashed to Luna and her beloved Rolf and their twins. Hermione and Ron too, with their two children and the never ending Weasley clan. And now, Harry and Ginny with their new twins bringing their total up to six if you counted Teddy, and while they might be exhausted, they weren't any less excited about it. They all deserved that happiness. After everything that happened, he wouldn't want it any other way. For them.

But it was moments like that, when he held two healthy sleeping newborns in his arms as the rest of the kids ran about playing and laughing, that he allowed himself to think about the truth… that there was this tiny, resentful part of himself that hated Hannah for leaving him. Even knowing it wasn't her choice, that her life was taken from her just as much as it was taken from him too, he hated her deeply. Hated her for his never properly getting over her, for leaving him without a woman to marry and a family to raise.

But as the crow flies, she died and he instead had nothing. Nothing but his shop. And after seven days of nonstop contact with his friends he knew Ginny was seeing far too deep into those truths and he had to get away. Quickly. So he placed little Artie in Ginny's arms and little Fredie in Harry's and bid them farewell, leaving a small potted Jade Plant by the door for luck.

Thump-thump.

Now he walked down Diagon Alley, the key to his home in his hand and the moon full and overhead lighting up the street he called his own. Hannah was a constant beat in his head, a beat he hadn't realized had been gone the last month but had steadily come back over the last week. It was louder than it ever had been before. On some level he knew it wasn't healthy, his behavior when it came to his long since deceased girlfriend. It made him moody and antisocial at the best of times, and drunk and belligerent at the worst. And he also knew he had never truly gotten over it, just buried it so deep he could ignore it most days. Sex helped, and his plants helped more. But Hannah was still there, if you knew where to look.

His chaotic thoughts spread across his mind, becoming heavier with every step he took towards his home. Thoughts of everything he felt he should've had with Hannah, everything she would've given him, a thumping beat that continued to get louder and louder causing sweat to pop along his brow and down his neck. It scared him to know it was worse than it had been in a long, long time. He wasn't sure why or how it had gotten so bad over the week, but it had. Thump-thump.

His heartbeat sped up to match the thumping in its harsh rhythm and his vision blurred at the edges but his backdoor was only a few yards away, the moonlight casting a silvery glow lighting the path between building perfectly. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

Behind the door was a dresser, and on top of the dresser was a bottle of Firewhiskey with his name on it. Literally. It was the only thing that could calm the pounding and then he could sleep, if he could just get there, and back to what he was good for. Running his shop. If only he could -

Thump -

And then he heard it. Her laughter. Penny. The sound that had been filling his gardens for the last month. His mind, and vision, was suddenly clear as a picture when he looked up and caught two pairs of violet eyes looking at him from the roof of Rose's shop. He shook his head and looked up again. He had a clear view of one of the neighborhood kids and Penny as she waved from her spot on the roof.

"Hi Neville!" she said enthusiastically.

"Hi Mr. Longbottom."

"Heya Fiona, how is your mother?"

"She's doing well Mr. Longbottom." Fiona said shyly.

"And you Penny?" he grinned. "How'd Ian do while I was away? Kept the fires out?"

"You know it! He managed it all right, but obviously he isn't as good as you are. I tried to guide him to success but it was a challenge."

He laughed heartily and felt himself completely relax, blissfully aware of the sudden silence in his mind. "What are you doing up there?"

"We were looking for holes earlier, now we're looking at the moon, of course." Penny laughed again and it felt like a punch to the heart. "We have snacks if you want to come up and join us!"

He was just about to respond when Rose came through the front door of her shop with a tinkling chime, her braids bouncing off her shoulders as she did. She rubbed at her eyes for a moment before giving him a hesitant smile.

"Hey…" she said, standing in front of him, her arms came up like she was going to hug him but she must've changed her mind because she put her hands in the pockets of her jeans and her smile turned shy.

The last time he had seen her, she had been crying and he had been confused as hell. He had raised his wand to dry off her soaking wet clothes and she had flinched, her big brown eyes full of terror if only for the smallest of moments. He had hated that. He would never use magic to hurt another person, not after the pain he had gone through during the war, and not after what his addled parents had gone through before that. And she had been scared of him? It was a punch to the gut.

But now… she looked somewhat happy to see him, if a little cautious.

He slowly, and deliberately, looked over every inch of her. She stood before him, well worn jeans and an attractive yellow top that drew his eye to her chest. He reached out a hand, taking the end of one dark braid between his fingers. The strands were silvery-dark in the moonlight, and soft to the touch. The scent of lemongrass hit his nose and all the confusion he had been feeling about her seemed to melt into the background. He loved the way she smelled, like she had spent her day in her garden under the sun.

"Rose." he breathed.

"How's the baby?" she asked quietly, but with heart in her voice.

"There's two." he laughed. "The healers got it wrong. Twins."

"Really? Wow. Twins… Daphne's sister also went into labor that same night." she told him, her head tilting slightly. "Actually, Astoria had twins too. A girl and a boy."

"Ginny had a girl and a boy. What a funny coincidence." he said, indulging himself in touching her braid. He wondered about her secrets and decided they needed to have a talk.

She was a single mother, trying to start up her own business, and get her daughter through school. Of course she had secrets, he thought. She had lived a whole life before she wound up on Diagon Alley across the street from him. If he played it right, she would probably tell him all sorts of her secrets. Feeling determined, he slowly let go of her braid and gently ran his finger along the edge of her ear and felt awash in pleasure when he heard her suck in a quick breath.

"Hehe… Neville… mama likes it when you do that." Penny said in a whisper just loud enough to reach them.

"Penny! What did I say!?" Rose yelled, looking up and making a cutting motion with her hand.

"Er…" Penny pretended to think about it before saying, "You told us not to fall off the ladder!"

The two girls laughed in unison before disappearing over the edge of the roof followed immediately by little steps going down what Neville imagined to be the previously mentioned ladder.

"I take it it's Friday night sleepover?"

"Save me." Rose mock grimaced. He knew she was happy with the kids around and another stone fell into place.

He smiled slowly, feeling wicked and determined. "Okay, can I sleepover too?"

oOoOo

She wasn't sure what was about to happen when she saw Neville walking down the street at the late hour, she only knew she wanted to talk to him as she rushed down the ladder behind her shop while simultaneously casting the glamour charm on her eyes to turn them brown again. She hurried through her dark shop, still under repair, and came through the front door banging the chimes against the wall in her rush. For all her hurry, she stood in front of him and realized she had no idea what to say. And for all the times she thought of him as a nice man, a good man, their little conversation made her realize something else. Neville Longbottom could be a charming man too.

The last week had seen her and Penny visiting the overjoyed Astoria and Draco Malfoy with their newborns, and that familiar ache Rose was so intimately familiar with had come rushing back the moment little Lyra had been placed in her arms, followed by the fussy Corvus. She spent a few hours holding them, as they slept heavily and soundly, while Astoria preened and spoke about the broken curse that had allowed her to not only keep her life, but have more children as well. Daphne had taken the seat next to Rose and stole Corvus when Rose wasn't paying attention, and teased her about the Jade Plant Rose had left by the baby's room door. And then she asked a question she hadn't ever before. Why didn't Rose have more of her own?

The minute Rose had given birth to Penny, she had wanted more. It was in fact the only major fight her and Phil ever had, one they revisited multiple times. He worked too many hours at the clinic, he didn't want to have more kids when he couldn't put in the time even if Rose was willing to be a stay at home mother. It wasn't the Slytherin thing to do, to reveal exactly how she felt to both Daphne and Astoria as well as the rest of Astoria's lady friends, but she was no longer the same Slytherin and she wanted nothing to do with the games the socialites played because they had nothing better to do than gossip.

So full of longing for a bigger family, and that familiar, yet fading, ache of grief when it came to Phil, she had been more than agreeable when Penny asked if her new friend from the neighborhood could sleep over. And when the moon rose full and tinted orange she couldn't help but chase the girls up to the roof with snacks and blankets.

Stretched out under the night sky with some record of Penny's playing, she felt better and allowed her mind to wander to her neighborhood friend and what he was doing. When, not if because at this point it was inevitable, he found out her secret… exactly how mad would he be? Could he get over it? Could she actually manage to make it up to him? Having had the time to think it over, she decided she wanted to try at least. Was he very angry with her, for the big secret she was so obviously keeping from him? Was he thinking about her at all? Or did they have weekend of fun, and now there was time was over? Would she get the chance...

But these thoughts went right out the window when he leaned in and smiled the smile of the devil at her. "Can I sleep over too?" he asked with such wicked charm she felt a flare of heat tighten her stomach. She could so easily succumb to that kind of heat, and had done exactly that the last time she had invited him in when they were alone. But this time... she had the kids.

She steeled herself and grabbed his collar with a smile. The action made his dark eyes flash with a sexual heat they seemed to invoke in each other, and she knew hers were doing the same thing. But still she held firm.

"No." she said. "But you can come in for a cup of tea if you want."

"All it takes is a foot in the door." he teased.

She mock growled at him. "I have the kids, Neville." she reminded him.

"That's what a privacy charm is for, Rosie." he shot back, but his smile made her toes curl in appreciation and she knew he would behave…

At least for a little while.


	10. Chrysanthemum

Chrysanthemum, or mums, are flowering plants with rows of sharp and smooth petals. The color of the flower symbolizes different meanings. Yellow for neglected love, or sorrow. Purple, a get well wish. White symbolizes loyalty and honesty.  
And red stands for deep passion.

He made himself comfortable in Rose's reading chair, kicking off his boots as she promised she'd be back with some tea. And then they could talk about the secret she was keeping. He looked around the bedroom he had spent two nights in and relaxed back into the chair, feeling the last week melt away. A hectic, exhausting week that had literally driven him crazy. That pounding in his head had felt like the worst of migraines… yet it had cleared away with only a moment of laughter.

Now that he was made aware of it, he wondered just when Penny had come to mean so much to him and thought it might've been inevitable since the moment the little witch stepped into his shop asking to see his garden and then later, when she declared sincerely and sweetly that they were now best friends.

He got along well with most of the neighborhood kids, but Penny was different and he knew it. And now he couldn't stop thinking about her mother. Rose's room smelled like her, something he didn't realize last time he was here. Or maybe she simply hadn't lived here long enough for it to sink in at that time. Or maybe it was the familiar silver bucket of lemongrass in the corner by the restroom. Either way, he enjoyed it and the resulting feeling it gave him.

Peace.

Now the scent surrounded him, and she had left her bedroom doors open and he could easily hear her moving around her kitchen, putting the kettle on, and whipping up a midnight snack for the girls. Their laughter and joyful delight filled the entire house, until he could practically feel it. It was calming… and felt right. Penny and Rose felt like pieces of a puzzle that he fit into. And it had been far too long since he felt that kind of belonging.

He stood up and walked by her drawing desk, the surface covered with blank pieces of sketch paper. He fingered the edge and thought back to the last time he was here. The pages had been blank then too. He thought on that as he moved past the high desk and the comfortable bar stool beside it and found himself crawling beneath the sheets. Her scent was even stronger here. His mind turned heavy and his thoughts slowed, until he barely remembered thinking he had never returned to any woman's house that he had slept with before, not for any reason. Until Rose. By the time Rose returned with the promised tea, he was sound asleep in her bed.

"Huh…" she found herself amused and curious at the same time. His head faced the window, one elbow thrown over his eyes, giving her a perfect view of his strong neck. What a week he must've had. Now that she thought about it, he did look tired when she first saw him and she knew it was a tired only children could bring about. She had experienced it first hand, and that was with only one little girl. Neville had told her that Ginny Weasley had had twins, and she could only imagine how exhausting that would be.

Placing the teacup by the bed, and a hard fought stasis charm to keep it warm for when he woke, she stared longingly at her drawing desk before leaving Neville to get some rest. Her heart fluttered wildly, thinking that the very next morning would determine where their relationship went. Because she couldn't, and wouldn't, lie to him anymore. And she could only hope that he would forgive her, both for that lie and for being the witch who used to be Pansy Parkinson.

And that wasn't the only trouble on her mind. She was determined to replace her supply and get her shop open pronto, with a new roof contractor coming early the next morning, she could only do one of those things. She had a plan, but she couldn't shake the feeling that with Neville asleep in her bed upstairs, something had changed. It wasn't completely lost on her that even though he knew she was hiding something, he came back to her. Her mind flashed to that smile he laid on her right before they walked into the house. The Devil's smile. Like she was exactly where he wanted her. And damned if that didn't just get her heart thumping. She could only hope things didn't change too much.

Rose tied her apron on over her clothes and began brewing again, the gentle sounds of a summer night coming in through the open windows a sound she had become accustomed too since the move back to Diagon Alley. Before long she had all 6 burners of one stove top going, cauldrons bubbling and simmering happily, letting off fragrant scents. She felt herself settle, her mind at ease as she completed task after task. Penny would say she was getting her zen on. She had to agree with her daughter, it felt exactly like that.

The floor above her was noisy with the girls being rowdy, but she didn't worry about Neville. Checking her watch, she knew Penny would be conk out as soon as she sat still for a moment. She had given them milk and cookies since it was a special night and the sugar crash would come sooner than later. A deep breath told her rain was coming. Her movements were steady and sure as she whipped up batches of lotions and beautification potions and perfumes with an ease honed over the years. Rose water simmered on her big burner and it scented the whole floor, mixing with the delicate scent of rain in the air.

She was in the zone, so the last thing she expected at the late hour was a knock on her door. It was quiet and easy, unhurried. So she checked all her cauldrons first, then washed her hands. She was wiping them off when she managed to open her front door.

"Oh - "

"What-"

"Ginny Weasley?"-"Pansy Parkinson?"

They spoke at the same time and then hesitated. Ginny Weasley stood, her fiery red hair was thrown into a messy ponytail and she wore a loose pair of jeans and a tee shirt. The famous witch took one look at her with narrowed brown eyes closer to tawny than usual brown and crossed her arms. Though they stood at the same height, Rose felt she was at a steep disadvantage. This witch had taken exactly one second to figure out who Rose was. She had slept with Neville, and he still hadn't placed her yet.

"I'm looking for a Rose Russo." she said after a long, uncomfortable silence spent eyeing each other wearily.

Of all the things…"You found her." Rose laughed awkwardly. "Would you like to come in? I've been smelling rain in the air for an hour now."

And she stepped aside, gesturing for Ginny Weasley to come into her home as if she hadn't been a girl named Pansy Parkinson, a girl who hated and bullied in school. The witch heavily considered it before tentatively taking a step inside.

"This is… very strange." she said as Rose closed the door behind them.

"You're telling me…"

Just as she realized she had no idea what to say or do and that Ginny was most likely feeling the same way, Penny popped her head over the railing.

"Visitors mama?!" she said just as Fiona leaned over the railing, copying Penny's posture exactly. They both had feather hats on.

"Are there more cookies, Mrs. Russo?"

"No, but I might make pancakes in the morning."

"Wait… what is a pancake?" Fiona asked in curious delight.

Penny laughed, nearly toppling over the edge. "Fi! You've never had a pancake before? It's a cake… that you make in a pan. They're flat like this!" and she held her hands together, horizontally.

"Oh! Can we have pancakes now?" Fiona asked shyly.

"Oi, your mum let you have sweets this late?" Ginny said sharply, crossing her arms again. Her gaze was pure parent, a mother who had her 'look' down pat.

"No…"

"That's what I thought." Ginny said.

"You two get to bed, and try to keep it down will you? Neville is asleep upstairs." Rose paused, and Ginny gave her a look of surprise, then she added. "And if you behave, pancakes for breakfast."

That promise got them moving back into Penny's room quickly and with quiet giggles that had both Rose and Ginny smiling. Until the silence came back.

"Uh…"

"Tea?" Rose winced, expecting the next bits of conversation to be as awkward as they come.

"Please."

It took too little time to make and pour the tea, and before she knew it, she was sitting across the table from a witch who surely hated her on sight. And it was justified. That was the kicker. Half her life she spent prejudiced and spiteful, taking out her anger and her issues by putting others down. Pansy Parkinson was a hateful, prideful, angry child who hadn't felt an iota of real love once. The first year at a Muggle University had killed any shred of pride she had. Meeting Phil, and learning how to love, had smoothed away the remains of her anger. Having Penny had grown her heart. But how could she possibly explain that to this woman?

Ginny's face showed no emotion. Only the steady brown-eyed gaze gave any clue to Rose what thoughts the witch was thinking.

"They both yours?" Ginny asked, taking a measured sip from her cup.

"The girls? No, Fiona lives down the street. Penny's new friend." she smiled just thinking about the shy, but mischievous girl her daughter had become quick friends with. A perfect match to Penny's outgoing and reckless personality.

"Penny… Where is her father?" Ginny asked.

"He passed away, in a car accident. It's been about a year and a half now. She's adjusted fairly well considering." The question surprised her.

Ginny's eyes flashed brightly for a second, a moment of understanding before it faded away. "Neville had mentioned… I'm sorry, I had forgotten."

"He mentioned it to you?" Rose wondered out loud.

"Yes… he talks about her a lot." Ginny's eyes trained on the ceiling and Rose knew she meant Penny. "She starting school soon then?"

"In September actually. Why are we talking about my kid?"

"Why lie about your name?" she snapped instead of answering.

"Primrose Russo is my legal name." Rose leaned forward, ready to defend herself against this witch even as she wished the conversation could just be over.

"Neville would have… I mean… getting him to talk is harder than pulling teeth… but he would have mentioned that it was you."

And there was that. Rose shook her head, amused that this was turning into the conversation she wanted to have with Neville. Instead it was an irate Ginny, in the middle of the night.

"Why were you looking for me?"

Whatever Ginny had been expecting, it wasn't that.

"Because when Neville left my house, he was in a bad way. I wanted to make sure he got home okay."

"Why not just floo?" she wondered. Something had pulled the witch here, and she wanted to know why.

"I don't have to explain myself to you." was the arctic response from this woman who so obviously hated her, it was starting to grate against Rose's skin.

"No… no you don't." Rose got up and went back to her cauldrons, letting her hands take over.

Ginny sighed heavily, her fingers tightening on her empty teacup. "Because he's my best friend and I'm worried about him. And I'm nosey as hell."

Maybe that was true and maybe it was time for Rose to admit a truth she was so uncomfortable with, it had caused her to run from Neville. "I… I don't think he realizes…" she admitted after a long minute of silence.

"Are you joking?" Ginny barely whispered, but it sounded like a yell to Rose. The witch came to the other side of the island, forcing their eyes to meet.

"I wish I were…." Rose lifted her hand to her eyes and rubbed away the glamour. The more time she spent in Diagon Alley, the less she found herself wearing it in the first place. She spent nearly 15 years straight with it on, the natural bright violet hidden away behind ordinary brown. If it had been her choice, she would have never returned to the Magical World. She would have stayed far, far away with her brown eyes. She returned only for Penny.

But now… She wondered if she would have been happy in the Muggle world without Phil. Especially when Penny so obviously belonged here in Diagon Alley.

She had already learned so much, made new friends. And no matter Rose's preference… no one could deny Penny's birthright. She finished rubbing away the glamour, her heart beating heavily. She'd have to do this for Neville too. She thought she could probably deal with Neville's anger, even though she hadn't had any experience with it yet. Was it fiery? Did it make him mean? She didn't know. But she would prefer that to his hurting.

Because the last thing she ever wanted to do was hurt Neville Longbottom, with his sexy blue eyes and a heart bigger than the moon.

"I had plastic surgery on my nose after an accident. Maybe it's because of that… maybe it's because I'm older. Maybe it's because I'm just different…" she said finally, revealing her bright eyes for Ginny to see.

"Bologna. I recognized you on the spot, even with all that." the other witch used her hand to gesture to Rose's face.

"I don't know what to tell you." Rose watched Ginny as her eyes flashed brightly with unhidden emotion, wishing she could read her mind and know her thoughts.

"After everything you did to him… how can he not realize who you are?" Ginny spat nastily, her face tinting red with anger for the first time. The color matched her hair perfectly. "And why the hell haven't you told him?"

Rose sucked in a breath and briefly wondered why it was easier to talk to Ginny about this than Neville. And then she realized exactly why and there was no dancing around it, not anymore. "Because I … I think I could fall in love with him given the chance. And I don't want to hurt him, but I don't know how to tell him."

But that only angered the witch more. "That's that some self serving bullshit."

She choked a bit on that, but didn't hesitate because if she couldn't face Ginny Weasley with this, then how could she do so with Neville who meant so much more to her? "If I had known how things were going to turn out - If I had realized…" She gulped. "I would have told him from the start. He didn't recognize me when we met again. I never thought things would get this far and when I put together that he was working so close to where I had just moved to, I didn't want things to get ugly between us. Believe me when I say I never thought we would end up sleeping together."

Leaning forward in a dramatic move, Ginny made a funny sound in the back of her throat just as she rolled her eyes. "He sleeps with everyone!"

"What?" Her heart thumped painfully, her mind flashing to that image of him pressing Maggie against the wall, with his hand between her legs.

"You know what… never mind about that. You have to tell him!" Ginny slid into one of the bar stools against the island. "You have to tell him as soon as possible."

"He came over, we were going to talk but he fell asleep before we could. And I'm kind of glad! I don't know what to say!" Rose said desperately.

"I'm going to pretend I'm not severely angry with you and just tell you this: He has never mentioned any girl to me, not once, in all the time he's been whoring himself around Diagon Alley ever since that fool of a girl Hannah Abbott went and got herself killed! Until you! Of all the people."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Rose felt her own cheeks heating in anger, her neck getting warm.

"He deserves way better than you." Ginny spat at her. "And if you think I would stand by and let you lie to him…"

Steeling her spine, Rose said in a low voice, "I think it's time you left."

"Rose Russo…" Ginny shook her head, her tone full of malice. "Tell him the truth. Or I will."

oOoOo

She woke up in the same position she had fallen asleep in, curled up on the couch with her face buried in the pillow. Her neck hurt from the uncomfortable position, but she could hear Penny and Fiona whispering and giggling together, the sounds of forks scraping against plates.

And she could smell the heavy aroma of dark coffee. Her sleepy mind thought longingly of Saturday mornings where Phil would whip up an extravagant breakfast and wake Rose up with a fresh cup of coffee. But all too soon she remembered Phil was gone. And she was on the couch.

Because Neville had been in her bed. She simply could not have gone to him after the fight she had with Ginny.

She sat up and the throw blanket someone must've covered her with at some point fell to the floor in a pile of blue and green. She looked over the top of the couch at to the kitchen island where the majority of the noise was coming from. And her heart soared.

Neville flipped pancakes with ease, entertaining the girls with the showy moves and even managing to make his mistakes look good. He had a whole spread laid out and in the center of her island, in a colorful vase Penny had made, a fresh set of red mums winked happily at the room. She watched them for a few minutes until the girls decided they were finished and got up.

"Neville will you tell my mum we're going to the park to meet up with everyone else?"

"Who is 'everyone else'? That Corwin boy?" Neville said, sliding extra pancakes onto a plate with cut fruit.

"Yes and with Sienna and Elise too." she responded excitedly.

"Stay around the area behind my shop. Ian will be there soon." Neville said.

"Done!"

Rose watched as Penny dragged Fiona out, slamming the door behind them as they went. She looked back to Neville and sighed almost dreamily.

There was something extremely sexy about a man cooking... in her kitchen no less. "Did the girls leave any scraps for me?" she asked, her voice husky with sleep.

His eyes turned to her at the first sound of that voice and the sheer force of feeling that stirred in her stomach when he looked at her nearly toppled her over. He needed to shave, his jaw dusty with dark hair that had grown overnight. And his eyes were smudgy blue even from across the room. His shirt sleeves were rolled up and a bit of pancake batter stained parts of his jeans. He was good to her kid, he was sexy as hell, and she wanted him.

Until he said, "Why are your eyes different?"


	11. Voodoo Lily

Voodoo Lily is a foul smelling, dark purple flower that gives off a rancid smell of rotting meat to attract flies and other insects.

Immediately turning, she put her hands over her eyes searching for that familiar itch of glamour and finding nothing. It came crashing down quickly around her when she realized she had taken her glamour off last night when she fought with Ginny Weasley, and she never reapplied it. She had been distracted to no end with the words the other witch had spat at her, so distracted that not even finishing her current brews had calmed her and she had packed up everything before collapsing onto the couch in a sheer exhaustion.

You have to tell him…

Ginny's words ringing in her head.

Tell him the truth.

Her tone of accusation, of anger.

Or I will.

Making a decision, she stood up and gulped in air by the mouthful. Ginny had been harsh with her words. But the truth was that Rose always knew in the back of her mind that she would be having this conversation with Neville, telling him the truth, coming clean. But what she said last night still stood.

She didn't want to hurt him, but she had no idea how to tell him without doing exactly that.

"Rose…?" his voice jolted her, she was out of time.

"This is my real eye color." she blurted out loud, turning to face him again. "My real… eye color… I've been wearing a glamour for…"

"Glamour?" Neville dropped the hand towel he had been using on the counter slowly, his eyes narrowing as he looked her over. She could practically feel his gaze as it blazed an invisible trail across her skin, a feeling that usually got her heart thumping with desire.

This time it made her feel like bug about to be stomped on.

That gaze made a full circle and came back to her eyes, at which point he crossed his arms and went into Auror mode. He was thinking. He was thinking hard.

And she watched his eyes widen with realization. He was silent for so long, his body so still, she didn't dare move or speak in fear of what his reaction would be. Finally he blinked, and that quickly his face turned mean.

"You said you went to school with Hannah." he said in a hard voice.

"Neville…" she cautioned.

He walked closer. "You're best friends with Daphne Greengrass."

"Neville wait…" she held her hands up and stepped toward him. "Let me explain…"

He shook his head angrily. "No." And with that single, hard word he walked away from her and her outstretched hands and took the steps upstairs two at a time.

"Where are you going?" Rose asked, following him as quickly as she could.

"To get my boots." he growled bitingly. "Then I'm leaving."

"Why? No - Wait. Let me talk."

He banged through the doors of her bedroom, heading straight for his boots sitting right next to her reading chair. He tripped up on the edge of her rug and the clumsy move only fueled his anger more. "Neville let me talk!" she tried again.

"No." he jumped on one foot as he angrily forced his other foot into his boot reminding her for the first time since she moved to Diagon Alley of the boy he had once been. He repeated the action with his other foot and gave her a look of cold fury.

She rushed back and closed her bedroom doors, turning quickly to press her back into them. "Stay and let me talk." she tried again.

He crowded her space, marching directly up to her. "Move. Out. Of. My. Way."

"No." she pressed even closer to the door, blocking his way.

"Don't make me hurt you." he said, shifting to make up for the space lost between them, his rage barely contained.

"You wouldn't." she put her hands on his chest, but refused to move from his path. "You wouldn't."

"How do you know that?" he leaned into her, trying his best to intimidate her. It was working. Almost.

"You wouldn't hurt me. And neither would I hurt you."

He made a strange noise of disagreement through his teeth, his head shaking in a definite no. "Like. I. Would. Believe. That."

"You!" she hit both her hands against his shoulders, mirroring his anger though she wasn't in the least bit. No, what she felt was desperation. "You held me down on that bed right over there." she pointed her finger as she said the words. "You said you wouldn't hurt me. 'Rose, I won't hurt you.' That's what you said. That - that is what you said!"

She was speaking so quickly, she was running herself out of breath - a habit she had had since childhood that never did her any good. She wasn't expecting any miracles, she knew this was, best case scenario, likely to end poorly. But she had to make sure Neville wasn't hurt.

"Ahh…" he very slowly, very deliberately placed both his palms on the door beside her head, effectively trapping her with his body. Her heart stuttered painfully. She never wanted to make Neville mad again. "But that isn't your name, is it?"

So slowly she raised her fingers to his cheeks, the rough bristles of his stubble itching her skin, and put every ounce of truth into her words. "Neville, it is my name."

"No it isn't…" and then he said, "Pansy."

"Don't call me that." she hit him again on his shoulders. "Don't you dare."

"Why not? That's your name. Pans-"

She slapped her hand over his mouth."That isn't my name!" she shrieked so loud he actually winced and took a step back away from her. "I'm sorry - I'm so sorry. Neville please. Be as mad at me as you want, yell and scream, storm out, I don't care. But not before you tell me you understand me when I say I'm Rose. I am. That girl is dead. Gone. And she is never coming back."

oOoOo

He was silent for a long time, until eventually he slid backwards into her bar stool and said, "I don't know what that means."

Because he hadn't a clue what to say otherwise. The moment he had realized where he recognized her from had been a punch to the gut, her vivid violet eyes a direct conduit to a time in his life when he hadn't been strong, hadn't been confident, when he hadn't been in control.

And in that moment he realized he had been had. This witch had gotten under his skin so deep and then pulled the rug right out from under him. It didn't matter that she seemed upset, or that she wanted to explain. It didn't.

What mattered was that she lied.

He hated liars.

And just like that, every moment they had spent together slammed together with the hurtful memories of his boyhood until it all blurred together into a caustic mix he doubted he could ever untangle. Rose and Pansy merged into one, a witch he hated. A witch who lied to him.

And, though he hadn't spared Pansy Parkinson a glancing thought in over 15 years, he hated her, no doubt about it. A girl who had pushed him down and bullied him, who stood in his way and made fun of him, a witch who spoke out against Harry Potter and all his friends. A girl who had permanently scarred his eyebrow with a harsh curse.

Yes, he hated that witch. But his mind whispered... his witch, Rose, didn't act like Pansy Parkinson acted. She didn't sneer and belittle like Pansy Parkinson did. And she never shrieked like a banshee the way Pansy Parkinson did. Until now.

The sound had pierced his ears and made him step back, giving her a chance to speak.

That girl is dead.

Shaking, she followed him until she could lean against her drawing desk and he widened his legs making room for her, though he couldn't tell why he had done that. She looked scared and he decided he hated that too.

So despite wanting to run out the house and slam the door behind him, he put a hesitant hand on her arm silently gesturing for her to continue.

"After the war… things were difficult for me. Mostly because of my own actions, and I accepted that a long time ago, but it was difficult. Since I was having such a time of it… I didn't realize just how sick my father had gotten. Right before Christmas that year, he passed away in his sleep. My mother had always been rather delicate and she -" she paused, trying to find the right words. "... decided to follow him."

Suicide. He wondered briefly if she was spinning a tale to get him to be sympathetic towards her, if this was more of some elaborate prank she was pulling on him. His mind thought back to their time spent together looking for clues that he missed, looking for something that should have told him he was being had. But then he thought of Penny, and when Rose - er - Pansy leaned a fraction closer as if seeking comfort, he decided to listen further before he made any judgements. He squeezed her arm and she continued speaking.

"I was 18 and I felt very alone… and lost. So I left. I had money from my parent's estate, I traded it in and disappeared into Muggle London with every intention of never returning. No one wanted me here anyways."

"Why would your mother just leave you alone like that?" he asked angrily, but without the cold fury that had been riding him before. He knew would've been lucky with his parents, even though he didn't really know them and they never got to know him either. He still knew he would have been loved had they had a chance to live their lives. He couldn't imagine his mother, or any mother for that matter, just choosing to leave their child to fend for themselves. But then, he thought, she had been 18 at the time.

Sucking in a steady breath, she answered him. "I've had a long time to think on this Neville, and the truth is that she would've been no good to me anyways. She needed my father to survive, and I was never the daughter she wanted, and I never would be either."

"Sounds like you're just making excuses for her. What does that mean, you were never the daughter she wanted?"

"Don't be mad at her, Neville." she pleaded gently, and though he didn't want to, he felt himself calm down a notch. "It means, I was a bony, boyish girl with an ugly nose who wanted to climb trees instead of play with dolls. Daphne would walk into a room and people would sigh dreamily, as if she were the breath of perfection herself. I walked into a room with sticks in my hair and mud on my face and the only person who sighed was my father in misery."

"That - no that doesn't matter, she was your mother." he pushed further, deciding he might just believe her. He was pretty good at spotting a lie, and so far… well he hadn't seen anything that would tell him there was another story than the one she was telling.

"I know." she shook her head. "It doesn't matter anymore. I got over this a long time ago, but it happened and it pushed me towards leaving for good."

"You didn't leave Penny." he said in such a bad tone he knew he needed to calm down further. But then, him saying the name out loud, Penny, made him realize that Pansy Parkinson would never marry a Muggle man. Torn, he squeezed her arm again.

She didn't respond right away, shaking her head ever so gently from side to side in thought. "The very moment I stepped out of Diagon Alley into London, I ran into some women who asked if I was okay, they asked my name. I had a brooch on my cloak that my mother had given me for my 17th birthday, it was shaped like a primrose. So just like that, I became Primrose Parker instead of Pansy Parkinson. I struggled for months, I didn't understand anything. But there was no pressure, no expectations. No one was mad at me for existing. I ran into a group of people, and they assumed I was a student too, they asked me what classes I was taking and then… next thing I knew I was an art student. And I was better. Much better."

She shook her head again, as if remembering hurt. "Eventually Daphne tracked me down and I realized I couldn't leave my old self behind totally. But she agreed to go along with my new identity, and since Daph agreed, Astoria did too. Since I never ever planned on returning to a magical life, I never worried about it. I was just a better person, I was Rose. Pansy Parkinson is my past, and I am nothing like her." She looked up into his eyes and he felt that punch again. Could he trust her on this? The image of her from the first time they were intimate popped into his head. The way her legs had wrapped around him, her breasts bare and in his face, the black of her hair silky against her skin. The very dark red that surrounded her nipple. And that suddenly, he had a clear, defined image in his head that was Rose. Not Pansy.

He watched as her bright eyes turned smudgy, her cheeks tinted pink. "Then you had Penny?" he said, instead of asking about Phil.

"Yes," she said rubbing under her eyes. Her purple, purple eyes. "We were Married, relatively successful, and pregnant, my magic went crazy and I came clean to Phil about my origins. That conversation made me realize that one day, Penny would have to be apart of the very place I never wanted to be again."

Neville wanted to believe, but he couldn't stop long lost insecurities from making him think that she might be the best liar in the world. That she could be playing the biggest joke on him, wanting nothing more than to hurt him in ways she had as children did. Just because someone was a mother didn't mean they were a good person.

But why?

Then she said, "But I did it. I came back, and ran into my old enemy and he didn't recognize me." she hit his arm as she spoke, punching him softly in mock anger. "I never thought in a million years you would kiss the frosting off my lip, I never thought you would come into my home and make me feel like it was possible to love again after Phil, and I never thought you would be so good to my kid, Neville. Otherwise I would've told you the truth from the beginning. The truth being that my name is Rose Russo, but I used to be a witch named Pansy."

He wondered how he had missed it that day in his shop. She had bent over and he had ogled her ass and somehow completely missed the fact that Pansy Parkinson was in his territory. Maybe because she really was different. He wasn't the same person he had been at 17, but a big part of him was convinced people didn't change that much.

Damnit, he was so torn and so angry. The first woman who could ever hold up to his Hannah, and it was Pansy Fucking Parkinson. Then the punch went through his heart again, in the way only this witch ever could. He grabbed her shoulders. "I'm so mad at you." was all he said before he crushed his lips over hers and gave her a kiss so bruisingly hard she made that damn whimpering sound in the back of her throat he loved so much. He put every ounce of his fury into the kiss, every doubt and insecurity, he crushed it all against her in a kiss that completely wrecked both of them.

When his teeth released her lips after a long minute, she stumbled away from him and put a hand over her heart, and he stood and walked out of the room, down the stairs, and out of the house without another word.

Because, he realized, he was no longer actually mad at her for the lie. He actually believed her. He wasn't mad at her for what happened. He was mad at her because the truth was… she didn't hold a candle to Hannah Abbott.

Rose was better. And he was furious about it.

oOoOo

After several days of Neville blatantly ignoring her, Rose found herself standing on the roof of her shop and yelling at the contractor who originally worked on it when she bought the place. The sun, which she usually welcomed over the usual rain, instead beat down on her like a hot hammer, which only caused her to be meaner to the contractor than she planned. When the man huffed and begrudgingly agreed to fix the holes in her roof, she stomped herself and her bad mood down the ladder and into the shop below ready to get back to stocking the shelves with her new and fresh products. Daphne sat by the window, her laptop on the tops of her thighs and a cellphone at her ear as she spoke quickly and snapped orders to her team of real estate managers. Her wand stuck out from behind her ear, but other than that not a single hair seemed out of place. Yet Rose felt as if she were disheveled and sweaty personified after only a few hours of working.

"What, don't you have an office anymore?!" she snapped at her longtime friend who absolutely didn't deserve to be on the receiving end of Rose's temper. But she couldn't help it. She had been in a bad for for several days now, and not even Penny's happy demeanor and general merriment couldn't pull her out of it. She slammed vials and bottles down along her white shelves and sneered meanly at the Voodoo Lily Daphne had brought with her. It smelled of death and rotted meat. "And you better get that thing out my shop!"

"Hold on a sec - Rosie will you shut up while I'm phone? Some of us have to work for a living." Daphne smiled brightly even though her words dripped with acid.

"Argh!" she stomped to the other side of her shop, continuing her mission to stock her shop even though she really wanted to take Daphne's laptop and throw it into the street. She wouldn't even know what a laptop was if it wasn't for Rose!

That stupid Lily was stinking up her shop and pissing her off to no ends. She was already pissed off, but that was besides the point. It served only to further her rage. When she asked Daphne why she even brought the foul thing, her friend had only said it had been a gift and she hadn't been home yet to drop it off.

Her eye kept going to Daphne's thin, lean thighs that supported the laptop. Daph was dressed in business attire, a tight silk cream skirt that an equally expensive red silk blouse was tucked into. Who wore silk in the summer? Honestly! Rose herself was working in a dirty tee-shirt that had nearly a decade's worth of paint stains on it, and a pair of grass stained jeans. Her fingernails were chipped and dirty. Her face felt gritty and gross. And Daphne looked like she'd walked off a magazine page.

"Argh..."

Rose's hand absentmindedly rubbed the outside of her own thigh. Her huge, thick, ginormous, never-ending thigh. If that wasn't bad enough, the other one matched. Two! Two GINORMOUS thighs. Maybe if she had thighs like Daphne, stupid Neville Longbottom wouldn't be ignoring her right now.

Maybe if she wasn't such a complete mess... Maybe maybe maybe!

She shook her head, trying not for the first time to clear it of her chaotic, irrational thoughts. She needed to calm herself and get over it, because it was obvious Neville wasn't going to forgive her for her lie. Not after the way he had treated her the last couple of days. Straight up ignoring her as if he couldn't even see her.

His childish antics had at first put her off, but now… she couldn't even think straight. She couldn't even stock her shelves in straight rows. She pulled all the bottles off and tried again, lining them up as neatly as she could while trying so very hard not to think about that damn kiss he had laid on her.

Hungry.

Maddening.

Needy.

He had kissed her to within an inch of her life. She would've died right then if he had continued, but instead he had stomped out of her room, out of her house, and out of her life apparently.

Her hand spasmed just thinking about it, knocking her bottles from their line and out spiraling in every direction. "Damn - it - to - hell!" She snapped, stomping her foot.

"Mama?" Penny's sniffling pulled her out of her rage so quickly, she almost got whiplash turning towards her daughter.

"Penny what's happened?" she said dropping down and enveloping her daughter's smaller form in her arms. Her tears were so rare, Rose hardly saw them. If something made Penny upset, the young witch usually got mad. The tears might come later, but she had too much of her father in her. Phil never got upset. He just did something about it until he was happy again.

Sniffing again, fat crocodile tears spilling down her face, Penny mumbled incoherently for a moment before bursting into hard sobs. Daphne immediately hung up her phone, slammed her laptop shut, and shoved both items to to the side before coming to her niece. Rose shushed her daughter softly before saying, "Baby girl, shh. Calm. Calm. Tell me what's happened."

Penny immediately started speaking again but it was garbled up underneath the tears and river of snot coming out of her face - an unattractive trait she got from her mother. Rose was an ugly crier too. It went on like that for several minutes before Penny was able to calm down enough to say, "Neville promised me he would take us to see his greenhouses! When I went over to the shop today, he yelled at me and kicked me out and told me not to come back!"

A hiccuping cry followed that statement, "What did I do wrong Mama? Why is he so mad at me?" and it broke Rose into two. Her baby girl was on the cusp of becoming a teenager, but at this moment she looked nothing more than her tiny child who had come to her with scraped knees too many times to count, begging for kisses to make it better.

Daphne must've seen the look on her face, because the witch immediately grabbed Penny from her and started cuddling her. Rose stood up, her fists curling in her rage. But her voice was calm when she said, "You did nothing baby girl. This isn't your fault at all, do you understand? He's just mad at me and took it out on you unfairly, is that understood?"

And without a second thought she was out the door with the Voodoo Lily in her hands and walking through Neville's open shop door with purpose. Though there were several customers milling about, and Ian sat behind the register as he usually did, she could clearly see Neville through the giant arch on the back wall that led to the gardens.

Ian looked quite startled to see her in such a state and the moment she caught sight of Neville and began marching over to him, Ian let out a low whistle and said, "Oh shit." just as the customers began muttering amongst themselves about the commotion that was clearly about to happen.

Rose didn't care. She only cared that Neville had dared break a promise to her child. And she was going to make him pay for it.

Emerging back into the sun after stepping through the arch, her huffing and puffing causing Neville to turn towards her curiously, she lifted the heavy pot in her hands and threw it with every ounce of strength she possessed right at Neville's stupid head. It would've hit him dead on if he hadn't immediately ducked with quick reflexes honed from years of working as an Auror.

"What the fuck!?" he cried when the pot soared through the air and landed in his rose bush with a crash, the pot shattering.

"You - rotten - piece - of - absolute - dog - shit - NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM!" she shouted, unafraid, and unconcerned about causing a fuss. She marched right up into his face and put her finger right into his nose.

He swatted her hand away angrily, frowning at her as he did. "What is the matter with you, witch!?"

Undeterred, she used both her hands to push him aggressively. "How dare you!"

"Ooh," he said dispassionately. "What's wrong, Ms. Parkinson? Your heart got broken? Tough shit."

His words further enraged her until she saw red.

"Are you kidding me?!" she shouted. "I don't give a fuck about my broken heart, Neville Longbottom! Which for the record, you didn't break. Sorry - you're not that good in bed!"

Her bad tempered, and untrue statement drew hearty chuckles from the crowd behind them but she didn't stop. "You can be as mad at me as you want, you can curse and spit my name, I don't care! You can do whatever - the - fuck - you - want! But don't you dare ever break your promises to my kid, Neville Longbottom! Don't you dare take out your anger with me on my child !" She shoved at him again and he didn't resist, stumbling back, stunned into silence.

"The next time I see you, you better be apologizing to my daughter for - being - such - a - prick!" she spat the last part of her sentence and with that she kicked at the nearest plant and turned on her toe. She marched out of the garden, past the gathered group of customers, past a wide-eyed Ian, and past a shocked Ginny Weasley with a set of twins in her arms.


	12. Gardenia

Gardenia is a strongly scented white or yellow flower.

"What did you do to her?" Ginny said to him in an uppity voice that told Neville she was pissed off and tired.

"What are you doing here?" he said and wasn't surprised at all at how grumpy he sounded. His to-do list was already a mile long. Having a crazy potted plant throwing witch making just another mess for him to clean up was the last thing he needed.

"Harry took the kids to a Quidditch match, and I'm avoiding my mother... and what the heck put a bur up your butt?" she nodded towards Rose's dramatic exit. "I was under the impression that she should've been apologizing to you…"

"What do you know about it?" he snapped, because honestly, he was pissed off too. Pissed off ever since he left Rose's place several days ago. Pissed off ever since he couldn't figure out how to handle the whole situation.

Pissed off ever since Penny showed up at his shop today, offering to help and begging him to answer questions about things she had read in her first year Herbology book, then reminding him that he had promised to take her to see his greenhouses with her sunshine smile that usually had him doing whatever she wanted.

He couldn't take it.

It wasn't that Penny had showed up that had pissed him off. It was that she had precisely the same vividly violet eyes as her mother. And he couldn't look at them without thinking about Rose, and he couldn't think about Rose without getting very angry.

Rose… Pansy… whatever the hell her name was… He wanted to pin the witch beneath him and take out all his frustration on her... sexually. He wanted to hold her down and make her beg for him to forgive her. He wanted a marathon of sex that ended with both of them useless and so spent he couldn't possibly be angry anymore. He wanted to forget that somewhere along the line since she came into his life, he had finally gotten over Hannah and it was all Rose's fault.

And it pissed him the fuck off.

He was skirting a dangerous line, knowing he would never hurt woman on purpose and yet… he wanted to make her scream. That's how pissed off he was. And Ginny was the last person he wanted to talk to. Especially about that.

His old friend had too perceptive eyes and a violent approach at making sure her friends and family were taken care of. It was a literal definition of tough love and Neville wanted nothing to do with it today of all days.

"Oh I know more than you think, Nev. Like how Rose Russo is actually Pansy Parkinson and you had no idea. Some Auror you are. She played you like a fiddle." Ginny said rocking her twins in their little bundles.

"You don't know shit, Gin." he snapped back, leaning down to clean up the broken clay pot and the sad, ripped up flower that the pot had once housed. The path it had flown had, unfortunately, resulted in a lot of destruction. It marked a clear line through his neat rows of flowers.

"Watch that mouth, Longbottom." she growled. While angrily picking up the broken pieces of clay, which had scattered through his rose bush, he caught his thumb on a thorn and sucked in a harsh breath. The irony of it hit hard. He was far too revved up, his body wanted to fuck Rose/Pansy into submission, and his mind wanted this whole thing to be resolved. Neither of those things would happen right now. Unless...

"Damn rose bush!" he stood and turned around on one foot. "Give me my godchildren and get out of my shop." he said, deciding to leave the mess Rose - Pansy - whateverthefuckhernamewas - had left of his garden for later. He stepped up to his friend and stole away her tiny babies, cuddling them in the crook of his arms.

Then he beelined out of the shop and across the road.

"Hey!" Ginny called, chasing after him. "Where are you going with my kids?"

"I'm using them as distraction." he said and he marched right up to Rose's shop and peered through the window. His witch was pacing back forth with her fists curled in anger still, her mouth moving quickly as she shouted at things. Her hair was slipping out of it's clip and frizzing out in all directions, making her look every bit of the crazy witch she was. She looked gorgeous.

Penny and Daphne were sitting on the counter watching silently. Penny, he could tell, had been crying. And that, he admitted to himself, was absolutely unacceptable. She wasn't his daughter, but he knew that if any other boy had made her cry like that he would kick their ass and then buy her the biggest ice cream sundae with every topping available. And then he realized he had been a prick to Penny, all because he had been, and still was, mad at her mother.

He actually growled out loud at himself. He kicked at the door gently, since his arms were full and he couldn't knock. Ginny stood in the middle of the road behind him, yelling at him, but he ignored her. Instead he watched as Rose turned towards the sound and got sight of him. He watched her lips pinch so tight they were nothing but thin, white lines on her face. She stomped over and swung the door open with enough force to bring down the entire building, her finger raised in preparation to point him in the other direction and tell him to get lost - most likely.

Instead, he had brought the one thing he knew she could, and never would, be mad at. Babies. He knew his witch was a sucker for babies. Her eyes dropped to the little bundles in his arms and her mouth dropped to form a perfect 'O'.

"Here, hold these." he said, forcing the twins into her arms. Winnie made a sound of displeasure, but she quickly settled in against Rose's chest and fell back asleep. Artie hardly noticed he had changed arms. And Rose just stood there, her heart visibly melting and all traces of anger gone completely.

"Awww…."

"Neville you can't just unload my kids off to strangers damn it." Ginny said following him into the shop. But he didn't listen, instead he dropped down in front of Penny.

"Penny can I apologize for my behavior earlier?" he said to the girl.

She didn't miss a beat. "I don't know Neville. Can you?" she said in the sassiest voice he had ever heard. Daphne, sitting beside her niece, snorted loudly.

"I want to make things right between us, how I acted was wrong." he tried again.

"You acted like a jerk! You made me cry and you hurt my mother's feelings too! No wonder you can't keep a girlfriend!" Penny shouted, hopping down from her spot on the counter. Her eyes watered and her lips trembled and he felt at a complete loss at what he should do. Before he could say another word however, she stomped her foot down hard on Neville's toe, causing him to stand up in shock more than pain, and then said, "If you don't watch out... my mama won't be the only one who is going to throw a potted plant at your stupid head!"

And she ran out the backdoor without another word leaving Neville standing there mouth agape. He had definitely been told off before, by multiple women, multiple times… but he had never been told off like that before.

And by an 11 year old.

The moment the door slammed shut behind her, Daphne whooped loudly, jumping off the counter and smiling brightly. "Oh my beloved Niece! You better be careful, Neville. She's going to be a Gryffindor. All bark - all bite!"

He turned around when he realized Ginny and Rose were both laughing out loud. "Oh my babies, your godfather just got destroyed by an 11 year old girl." Ginny said between laughs. "I can't wait to tell your father. Ha Ha… Haha ha…"

Rose's face tinted red as she laughed, her eyes lit up in joy. And they were purple. Not brown like Hannah's. With her arms full of tiny babies, he felt his heart soar and his mind turn against him. He was trying to force himself to remember that this was Pansy Parkinson, he was trying to force himself to remember the painful memories of the Bully he knew. Instead he was seeing a lovely witch and her laugh was making him breathless. He didn't want to separate the memories he had of Pansy from the ones he had of Rose. He wanted it to be simple. One witch that he could break up with and move on from. One witch that had wronged him when he was a boy, and broke his heart right open as a man.

But instead, his mind was telling him something else. Maybe she really was just Rose.

oOoOo

"Ginny would you like to come in for tea?" Rose said to the witch she had been laughing with. She would never forget the harsh words Ginny had used against her, nor how badly they made her feel. But she figured, Ginny owed her one. Maybe even another. But if she expected to be part of the magical world again for her daughter, she had to start mending relationships where she could. Ginny Weasley was a fine place to start.

"I would love to. Neville? Don't you have work to do? Your shop needs you, friend."

"You're a pain in the ass, Gin." he mumbled.

"Every day. Every single day." Ginny said reaching for one of her twins. "Let's catch up, Mrs. Russo."

Rose wanted to laugh and laugh at the look on Neville's face, and the red that was creeping up his neck. She had a feeling he was use to women yelling at him. But Penny wasn't a woman. She had to occupy a different place in his worldview. She could tell from his stance he wanted to talk to her, but she feeling very petty. He had after all made her child cry.

"See you later, Neville." she said, and led Ginny and the twins out through the back door.

In the house, Daphne sat on the couch braiding Penny's hair and Rose decided to let them have their little talk without interfering. When Penny was born, Rose had wanted to hog her child and smother her with love. She didn't want Penny growing up wondering if her mother had any love for her, the way Rose had. Peony Parkinson was complicated. One moment, they would be laughing in the garden together. The next, Pansy would be alone and neglected. It had taken Phil to make her see it was entirely selfish in a different way her parents had been and that she should let as many people love her child as possible, so she would never be alone. Daphne and Astoria would never leave Penny if something had happened to Rose.

She walked to the kitchen and put the kettle on just as Ginny slid into the same bar stool she had stood at the last time she was here.

"I originally wanted to hang out with Neville today, and get the twins out of the house for a bit. But I think I should let him lick his wounds." she said cautiously.

"That might be best. He definitely looked like he didn't know how to handle Penny… I actually feel badly for him." Rose said, putting out some cut fruit she had and setting up the cups for tea.

"While I'm here, I wanted to apologize for the … for the way I said things that night."

Not for the things she said. The way she said them.

"I accept." and they shared a small smile. It was definitely a starting place if anything.

Much later, after Rose cleaned up after dinner and straightened up the sitting room, she wandered up to Penny's room, knocking on the door that had been closed more and more lately.

"Come in."

"Just wanted to say goodnight."

"Goodnight. No bedbugs." Penny said with a book in her lap.

"Good. Do you want to talk about Neville?"

Penny frowned for a moment before she said, "I don't know why I cried. And I… I drew something too."

Rose looked towards the desk by the window, where Penny kept most of her art supplies. There in the very front, on thick parchment, was a colorful sketch of a Voodoo Lily flying dangerously towards Neville. The drawing was comical and she had to stop herself from bursting into a fit of giggles.

"Penny! This is good work! I can't draw like that."

"I was… motivated." Penny said with a pout.

Rose stayed silent, knowing Penny and knowing if she had more to say she would say it. She did. "Daphne says only people who matter should be worthy of our tears. Strangers don't deserve it."

"Your Aunt Daph is a smart witch."

"So you agree with her?"

"I think the only people whose opinion should matter are the people you love and care about. Like I care about what you think, but if some random person said something nasty, I wouldn't let it bother me because they don't matter."

"So what if…" she bit down on her lip.

"When have you ever held back?"

Penny winced. "What if Neville said something mean about you?"

"He's just... very angry with me right now."

"He said something really mean."

"Do you want to tell me? You don't have to."

"He said you were playing a prank on him, trying to break his heart."

"Well… I'm not. I kind of like him," she admitted. "But a lot of times, boys don't think straight when they get that angry."

Penny looked thoughtful for a long minute before she said, "Even though he was kind of a jerk to me, I think you should go kiss him and stuff. He could make you happy like daddy used to make you happy."

Penny never ceased to dazzle. "Well I'll take that under advisement. Anything else you want to talk about?"

"Nope. I think I'll go to sleep now."

"Goodnight Penny, do you mind if I go show Neville this picture?"

"You should staple it to his forehead."

Laughing, Rose walked downstairs and looked around. Her daughter was safe and okay, her house was clean, her shop was restocked, and the roof was fixed. She raised her head and looked upstairs, knowing as soon as Penny fell asleep she would be out like a light.

She had made a decision and turned the knob of the front door, quietly stepping outside into the summer night. She had an idea, and she thought it was just sneaky enough to work.

Silently, she made her way across the garden, past the gate, and across the street. Walking along the side of Neville's shop, she was just about to turn the corner and knock on his door when she heard a soft, feminine, familiar voice.

"-actually hurting over this girl? I can make it better Neville."

She felt her fingers curl as she recognized the sultry voice of Maggie Mobley, the sexy-redhead-with-tiny-thighs she had seen Neville with that one memorable night. Not caring that it was rude, she pressed herself against the wall and stayed silent, listening to them talk.

"Let me distract you, no strings attached. We both could use a good workout… I can tell you're hard up."

"I don't think -"

"Seriously when was the last time you got laid, Neville? Your muscles are so tense."

"Maggie you know I think you're sexy as hell-"

"Definitely better looking than that Rose anyways."

Neville paused, and Rose felt her heart stop. What had she just said to Penny? How if some random person said something nasty, she wouldn't let it bother her because they don't matter? Maggie certainly didn't matter to her… but Neville did.

"Mags, I think you're beautiful." he said gently. "But I'm not interested."

"Let me change your mind… You've never turned me away before."

Rose decided she had heard enough, she could either reveal herself or walk away. And she wanted to talk to Neville. She stepped into the darkened path and crossed her arms. "There's a first time for everything, sweetheart."

She could just barely make out Neville's taller form, and Maggie's shorter petite one. The street lamps were just far enough away that hardly any light reached this little corner. But there was no missing the disgusted look on the girl's face. And that's what she was - a girl hardly out of Hogwart's.

"Oh I think Neville should decide." Maggie said, instead of leaving.

"What? You can't hear under all those hair extensions? He said he isn't interested."

She could tell her words prickled. Maggie stepped closer, putting her face into Rose's. "Like he'd actually be interested in the chubby bint who destroyed his garden over me. Honestly, how do you even fit that ass into anything other than spandex?"

Her hands immediately came to the sides of her thighs, her main source of insecurity. And Maggie had the gall to look victorious… until Neville stepped in and said, "With help." and he grabbed Rose's hand pulling her in through the doorway.

The door shut on Maggie's surprised face and Rose couldn't help but feel a smidgen of triumph. That was, until she turned to face Neville. He looked exhausted. And still pissed off. He crossed over and shut the curtains that covered the only window and it submerged them further into darkness.

She could barely see until Neville switched on a small lamp by the bed. "I wasn't particularly happy to see Mags, but don't think since I let you in here I'm happy to see you either."

With that he lifted his dirty shirt up over his head and threw it to the ground just as he kicked his boots into the corner. "I've only just finished closing up and I'm tired so tell me what you want." he said just as his hands went to the top of his jeans. He was trying to intimidate her again. By getting naked. But they way she was feeling, that would only make her want to stay, if she were being honest.

It was time to be sneaky. She stepped over to him on silent feet, coming to stand directly in front of him. She knew she could reach up and kiss him, distract him with her mouth. She hadn't missed the flash of heat in his eyes when he had said those two simple words that managed to make her feel wanted and dismissed Maggie with ease. But she had something she needed to say first. He paused, letting his arms hang by his sides and she placed both her hands on his chest. He smelled of his garden, of sweat and hard work and she gave into the urge to dig her fingernails into his skin. She watched him wince, narrow his eyes at her in that look that felt sexual and frustrated at the same time.

"Do you really think that I was just… messing with you?" she asked quietly, the mere idea horrifying to her. She would never play someone's feelings like that.

"What else am I supposed to think?" She heard the undertones of insecurity in his question and it made her frown.

"How about… I didn't want to hurt you?" she curled her fingers into fists against his chest, gave him a mock punch, and watched his face closely. "Yeah - you didn't think of that did you? And don't say you don't believe me. We spent two nights together. Do you really think I could have… faked that?"

She didn't want to give him time to second guess her or talk himself into continuing to be mad at her, so she stepped back and gingerly fished her wand out of her pocket. With a slow, deliberate move she set her wand on his dresser and turned back to him. "You can believe me or not. I know you're angry with me… and I know it's justified. I'll give you 5 minutes."

"What?"

"Yes… 5 minutes. You can do whatever you want to me. Spit on me, curse me, hurt me… but after that… Neville, I'm going home to take care of my daughter. Because that is who I am. Pansy… Rose… it doesn't matter what you call me and it doesn't matter if you decide not to believe me because it won't change the truth."

Anger charged the air between them and when he stepped forward and placed both his hands on the sides of her upper arms, it felt as if he shocked her. "You better get one thing straight Rosie…" he growled. "I would never willingly hurt you."

"How can I convince you otherwise then? I wasn't trying to break your heart." she said softly.

He sighed heavily before stepping back and sitting down on the bed, bending over to take his socks off. "You didn't."

She blinked, thought through what he could mean. "Why are you so angry with me then?"

He leaned back, his legs still covered by grass-stained jeans stretched out in front of him, and she couldn't help when her eyes lingered over his bare chest. He held her eyes on his for a while before his head tilted and his gaze went to her right. She turned and spotted it right away.

The only picture on his dresser was in a solid black frame, the face on the moving photograph familiar. Hannah Abbott, wearing an apron and standing behind a familiar looking bar. The witch was making a face, crossing her eyes and wiggling her fingers before she laughed and blew a kiss at whoever was taking the photo.

"Oh…" she picked the frame up and watched it loop one more time before the photo was ripped from her hands. Neville slammed it down on the dresser face down.

"It feels like I've betrayed her. But you understand that don't you?" he said crowding her space, leaning in, his anger making him seem bigger.

She rubbed the spot over her heart. Yes, she understood. She completely understood. And she knew that feeling could give way to anger. "Sometimes I can hear his voice." she said. "Telling me I left the coffee maker on, or Penny forgot her vitamins."

"What's a vitamin?" he asked.

"Oh - it's a Muggle thing I suppose." she said softly, then sighed. "Neville-"

"You really aren't her anymore are you?" he asked, leaning in even closer, his mouth barely an inch away.

"I used to be, and I can't forget that. But no. I'm not her."

"Damnit. Rose." and that was the only warning she had before his mouth was on hers, his hands curved under her bottom and lifted her up in an instant. Her mouth opened in surprise and he wasted no time taking advantage and deepening their kiss. She could smell all the delicate scents from his garden in his skin - Roses, Verbena, Gardenia... more and more. It mixed with the scent of earth, of healthy soil and sunshine and sweat. She loved it. She loved him.

And she couldn't help but respond, wrapping her legs around his waist, digging her fingers into his hair. She realized quickly that she rather liked Neville wearing nothing but a pair of jeans. She also liked him a little angry, if his fervent kisses were any indication for the kind of mood he was in. She felt wanted in a way she had never experienced before... not even with Phil.

Neville was simply desperate for her.

His hands dug into her ass. "I'm so mad at you." he growled against her lips.

"I know."

He turned and dropped her into his bed, leaning in to cage her with his body. His elbows came down on either side of her head and she had no way to escape from beneath him. He leaned down and took her mouth again in a kiss so carnal, it stroked her passion to inferno levels until she was so hot she couldn't breathe. "Neville…"

He started out with far less clothes than she, but that didn't deter him in the slightest. Her soft cry only spurred him to go faster, until he slid down and unbuttoned her shorts, all the while raining kisses on every inch of her skin. Then he shoved them down quickly before he reached for his own jeans. There was something very sexy about a man in such a desperate state, she thought. His frantic movements to rid her of her panties while she quickly unbuttoned her top left them both breathless until they were both finally naked and he was lowering himself back down on top of her, pushing her firmly into the bed with his body. Less than two minutes after he said her name, they lay pressed together, naked and panting.

Gripping his hair, she kissed the column of his neck wanting to get as close as she could. His fingers spread her apart, dipping once… twice. "Now. Hurry." she mumbled into his neck. His hand came up to her jaw, tilting her head back as he covered her mouth with his. At the same instant he withdrew his other hand and pushed her thighs further apart. The sensation of his rough hands on her throat, on her thigh, only enhanced when he nudged past her entrance.

"Neville." she exhaled.

"Okay?" he settled on top of her, kissing her soft skin along her neck, up her jawline.

"Yes. So good."

With a hand still on her throat, and the other pinning her thigh down, he rocked into her hard, stretching her internal muscles. She let out a single, breathy moan and clutched onto him tighter so he surged forward again and was rewarded with the same sound. He kept going, holding her down as he fucked her, and he felt his anger fade away with every thrust, every moan for more. She held on to him with her fingers pressed in deep, her nails leaving little marks all over his shoulders and back. Her heels dug into his lower back and still, he kept going until his fast, frantic thrusts slowed to long, deep strokes that had her body humming in sexual heat and the only thing he could see was the bright of her eyes looking into him.

When she came, he went with her.

A little while later, she sat up and turned her back to him, stretching her arms overhead before she stood and started gathering her discarded clothes. She brushed her fingers against a hard edge of parchment and she pulled the drawing Penny had done from the pocket of her shorts.

"Where are you going?" he asked in a scratchy voice, reaching out to grab at her other hand, trying to pull her back to bed.

"I can't leave Penny all alone." she said as she pulled her shorts up her legs, and then pocketed her panties. "She told me to 'staple' this to your forehead by the way."

Neville took the drawing from her and laughed out loud, sitting up. "That's... scarily detailed."

"Yep." Rose said, putting on her shirt. "You're going to have grovel, you know that right?"

"I will." he said.

"In fact, you'll have to send some of that groveling over to me too." she stepped between his legs and dug her fingers into his hair, something she loved doing. "Don't you ever hurt my kid again, Longbottom." she said, tugging at the strands just hard enough to hurt.

"I won't... Russo."


	13. Rose

There's hundreds of different kinds of roses, which is a wood perennial with many different meanings spread out over the world.

The flowers came the next day. When Penny ran to get Rose, she had been sipping coffee in her reading chair and debating whether or not she was in the mood to sketch. The very feeling was welcomed, as she hadn't found much reason to sketch since Phil had died. Now, she thought she would want to sketch Neville. Preferable if he was naked and tangled up in her sheets when the light was just right. His back alone would give most art students the itch to sketch... the lines of his muscles so prominent. Her own fingers were twitching at the thought of having him sit for her and... other things.

She had been expecting a delivery for empty bottles and vials, and just assumed when Penny said there was a delivery for her that that was what had arrived. Penny, wanting to avoid any manual labor that would be involved, wandered to her room and started playing music.

Rose hopped her way down the stairs and prepared to carry the large box that was sure to be heavy. Instead she opened the door to giant, brilliantly yellowed roses that left her breathless. They were the most incredible flowers she had ever laid eyes on. The full blooms were at least six inches across and the smell was heaven on earth. There were a dozen of them, all the exact stunning shade of sunshine yellow, all of them healthy.

"My word…" she said, amazed by the mere display before her. She reached out a finger and brushed gently across the nearest soft petal.

"Who are they from, Mama?" Penny called out from above her, her little form leaning over the balcony. "Can I draw them? They sure are pretty."

Rose looked for a card, avoiding the thorns, and finally found a square white card attached to the stem by a thin, golden thread. "Well now…"

Her heart soared. To my #1 Girl, Penny. I'm sorry. -N.L.

"Uh… Penny my love?"

"Yes, Mama?"

"They aren't for me."

Curious, Penny came down the stairs. "The idiots delivered to the wrong address?"

"Nope." Rose held out the card to her daughter to see, excited to see what her reaction would be.

"Uhhh…" she said, her eyes screwing up.

Rose resisted the urge to laugh at Penny's perplexed expression and delighted in the idea that this was the first time a boy had sent Penny flowers. Neville was setting a high bar, but she didn't care. Penny deserved the best and Rose knew with certainty that Neville would do his best not to ever hurt her girl again.

She waited to see what Penny would do, watched as her eyes lingered over the beautiful petals. A bare second later she narrowed her eyes and said, "He'll have to do a lot better than that."

"Oh? You know yellow roses are supposed to represent friendship."

She watched Penny struggled with that for a moment before she said, "Yes. He was a jerk and I'm not going to forgive him just because he gave me some pretty flowers. My standards are much higher than that!"

Decision made, they dragged the large vase by one of the kitchen windows where the roses would get the most sunlight and spent another minute admiring them in the different light. Finally, Penny turned and ran upstairs. "I'm still going to draw them!" she called as she ran. Rose knew she would, the light was too good.

Rose joined her and they spent the rest of the morning sketching before Rose made grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch. She was cleaning up when there was another knock on the door. Expecting her vials and bottle finally, she opened the door and instead found a giant box of expensive chocolates. The delivery boy bid her a good afternoon after she signed for them and Rose just felt herself shaking her head. The card was attached to the top of the box and it said, Sweets for the sweetest girl in Diagon Alley, I'm sorry. -N.L.

"Oh Penny!" she called walking over the the island. "Delivery!"

"What another…?" Penny ran over to her, paint brushes in one hand. Her eyes widened at the sight of the large box of chocolates and she snatched the card, reading it quickly.

"Maybe they could be for you…" Penny tried.

"Sweetest girl? I'm sorry honey, he is most definitely not talking about me. These are for you." Rose said, nudging the box closer to her and feeling more and more impressed with Neville.

Penny lifted the lid with zeal and threw the cover paper to the ground. The smell of cocoa and mint and coconut drifted up to their noses.

"Can I have one?"

"Of course you can, they are for you silly girl. You better share with your mother though…" Rose teased reaching for one a round piece of chocolate. Penny grabbed three. Dark chocolate and coconut, white chocolate and fruits and everything in between. Rose bit into her piece and found a chocolate covered cherry in the center.

"Are you still upset with him? I don't know if I would've made it past the roses, but these… These are divine."

Penny struggled, she could tell, to come to a decision. In the end, she made a face and said, "Flowers and chocolate… so what?" but her voice sounded softer.

"Give him credit... he didn't buy the cheap ones. Your dad used to get me cheap chocolate until I yelled at him one day."

Laugh, Penny's eyes shined briefly. "What else did daddy do that made you angry?"

Rose picked up another chocolate, this one smelling of mint. "Well... He was a blanket hog and he always left the cap off the toothpaste."

"Oh? Didn't he ever do anything that really made you angry?"

"Sure, he wasn't perfect. Just nearly so." Rose said, winking at her daughter when she smiled.

They pigged out on chocolate, ruining their dinner. But it didn't stop there. The next morning, Rose walked down the stairs in her robe and bee-lined for the coffee maker, only to find it had already brewed. On the island, suspended in a stasis charm, sat a pancake breakfast complete with fresh fruit and whipped cream.

"Penny!" she called, raising an eyebrow as she poured a cup of coffee for herself. Another note sat by a carafe of maple syrup.

A few minutes later, a sleepy-eyed Penny stumbled downstairs rubbing at her cheeks. "It's too early - You made pancakes?!"

"Nope." Rose said handing Penny the card. Favorite breakfast for my favorite girl. I'm sorry. -N.L.

"Argh! He's making it really hard to be mad at him!" Penny exclaimed, flopping into her bar stool and practically drooling at the spread before her. "You haven't forgiven him yet, have you?"

Rose put her hands in the air. "If you're mad at him, I'm mad at him. He hurt your feelings and that makes me go into mama-bear mode."

"Well good! I'm still mad at him! I don't want breakfast." she shoved the plate away dramatically.

"A stasis charm only lasts so long, Penny… You should probably still enjoy the breakfast he made. We ate all the chocolates after all…"

Unable to resist, Penny pulled her plate back towards her and piled whip cream on top. "Fine… but I'm still - a little - mad at him."

"Fine, you're still mad." Rose said, sipping her coffee and wondered just how long her baby girl would be able to hold out against Neville. He was being awfully charming. She had told him to grovel, it seemed he was trying to butter Penny up first. And in the process, she found herself falling even more for him. Phil's voice filled her head, Of course you're falling for him. He's good to our girl.

Later that afternoon, Penny told her she was going to the park with Fiona. "Fine with me. Just be home before dark, understood?"

"Yes Mama."

And Rose found herself out in her garden with a notepad and a pencil to take note of her supplies. Spending more time outside had given her skin just a hint of gold, and it made her feel younger than she was, added that to the braids she put in her hair after her shower earlier, and her shorts and tee shirt… she just felt good. Even if she could feel all that chocolate from the day before going straight to her already too big hips.

She decided, after searching the weather, that she would open her shop the next day. On a Friday that the weather man promised was going to be sunny, with zero chance of rain. She had kicked off her shoes and now stood with her toes in the soft dirt, the smell of herbs and plants all around her, as she wrote down numbers and mentally catalogued what she would need to order next week.

The sound of her gate unlatching made her turn her head and her breath caught. Neville walked through, wearing his usual attire. Work boots, jeans, and a button up cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up. A today… a small smile that she shared.

"Hey."

"Hey." was all she said before he wrapped his arms around her and laid a kiss on her lips. One hand slid up and pulled at a braid, the other holding her waist tight against his body, she responded in kind by hooking her arms around his neck, her notebook and pencil forgotten.

"I saw Penny and Fiona walking to the park with Corwin Cooper." he mumbled between kisses.

"Mmmhmm…" she bit at his lips and pressed impossibly closer to him. "You done for the day?"

"Yep." he returned her biting with little bites of his own. "Ian says hi. I told him to butt out."

She laughed and tugged his head down for more kisses, he came easily and slid his other hand down her back, over the curve of her bottom, and rested his fingers on the underside of her ass. He squeezed tight once before picking her up. She swung her legs around his waist without ever breaking their kiss.

It was moments like that that she really appreciated his strong arms, delighted in the fact that he wouldn't drop her. "Were you just waiting for Penny to leave so you could come ambush me?"

He shook his head. "Pure chance. I was just closing up the front when I saw them heading off down Northeast." His tongue slid into her mouth after he said that, his hands sliding up under her shorts as his fingers spread and dug into her skin. He pressed her against the door frame and continued to ravage her mouth.

"You know Penny won't be back until after dark." she said when he moved his kisses down her neck.

"That gives us plenty of time." he bit along her neck up to her ear.

"Yep… maybe I should go say hi to Ian."

His hands squeezed her as he bit down on her lip hard. "Are you trying to make me mad?"

"Maybe… it worked out in my favor last time." she said, breathing heavily.

"I could just go home." he leaned back, looking down at her.

She stuck her lip out in a fake pout. "Or … you could take me upstairs."

"What's upstairs?" he asked, leaning in and pressing his lips over hers. They stayed like that for awhile, making out like two teenagers, and she liked every moment of it.

Finally she broke away from his lips, sucking in quick breaths, and dropped her legs. "I'll show you." He reluctantly released her and she took his hand, leading him through the front door and up the stairs to her bedroom. Her skin beneath her clothes felt stretched tight and heated, until she was desperate to get her clothes off.

The deep blue of Neville's eyes had turned dark as he watched her and she felt anticipation flutter in her stomach, heat curling between her thighs. She shut the door firmly behind her and placed her hands at the bottom of her shirt. Slowly, she pulled her tee over her head before dropping it to the ground at her feet. She heard him suck in a sharp breath and thought she wanted to really drive him crazy. She pushed gently at his shoulder and he backed up until his knees hit the bed and he sat back on his elbows, his eyes floating between looking at the white bra she was wearing and her face.

She could feel his eyes on her, leaving that trail it so often did. It was heat and desire and it promised so much of both. She turned, wanting to feel that fire on her back. Dipping low, she pushed her shorts down slowly and wondered if he minded the dirt on her barefeet. Probably not, she decided thinking about how often he himself spent in his garden. They were alike in that way and it gave her joy to think about. She turned her head and looked at him over her shoulder, slowly unclasping the hooks on her bra. It fell to the floor a moment later and she heard him moan.

"Oh Fuck…" he said. And he was suddenly behind her, one arm banding tightly around her torso under her chest, his hand a brand against her breast. The callouses on his hand were rough against her nipple and it made her gasp. He pulled her flush against him and put his mouth over her pulse, sucking lightly. His other hand untangled the braid in her hair, allowing it to fall over her shoulder in waves of pure black, then he pushed that hand down her side, the skin of his fingers rough, and slid underneath her panties.

Her hands came up and gripped his hair as his fingers slid through her curls, and began rubbing intimately against her damp folds. He sucked and kissed at her neck, rubbing her harder, listening to the little sounds she made. As a finger teased at her entrance, she cried out and he held her even tighter, keeping her still as his forefinger pumped into her.

"Neville!" she clutched onto his arm as it moved, one hand still in his hair, and went on her tiptoes trying to get closer to him.

"God, you're sexy as hell…" he muttered against her skin, moving his arm against her with every pump of his hand. When her moans became harsher, he added a second finger and had to hug her even closer when her back arched against him, trying to get away from the pleasure.

Then he brushed his thumb against her clit in sync with the movement of his fingers, and she came on his hand, throwing her head back into his shoulder. "Sexy. As. Hell." he said, kissing her neck between words.

He laid her gently on the bed and she trembled against the sheets, watching him unbutton his jeans and pull the zipper down. "Well that was really fun," she said breathless, crossing her arms behind her head. "You can come back tomorrow, around the same time."

He paused and tilted his head. "You're just asking for trouble." Then she got to watch as he undressed for her, kicking off his boots, pushing his jeans down, pulling his shirt over his head with his strong arms. She reached out to help him with his briefs but he lightly hit her hands away.

"No." he said to her pout. "Your mouth got you into trouble."

"Grr…" but she was soaring despite the angry sound she made.

Fully naked, he crawled onto the bed beside her, firmly gripping her hips and pulling her on top of himself. She willingly came, settling over top of him and pushing her breasts against his chest, and she leaned in for a kiss. He bit down hard on her bottom lip.

"Hey! That hurt…"

"You hurt my feelings." he said, rubbing circles into her hips, pulling her closer.

"Good." she smiled and straddled him, pushing the wet vee between her legs against the length of his erection. "Then I can spend time making up for it."

"You can spend a lot of time making up for it." he said in a rougher voice, his hands digging into the flesh of her hips, pushing her harder against his cock.

She smiled and slid her hand into his hair again, sending her other hand between them. Her delicate fingers gripped the thickness of his cock and she squeezed her hand, stroking him as she kissed his his jaw line, down his neck.

"Yea… lots to make up for. Lots and lots…" his voice wavered and she kept moving down and across his collarbone, back up to his neck on the other side. When she looked up and saw his eyes had fluttered closed, she positioned them together, and slid herself over the blunt tip of his erection.

His eyes popped open and met hers, and she continued her slow slide while they looked at each other both of them holding tightly onto one another. "Rosie…" he said, his voice edged. And she thought, finally. That was the right name. He knew who she was and he wanted her.

Then they made love like they did the first time, slow and deep until neither of them knew anything else.

oOoOo

As the sun set behind the house, she lay on her side with her back pressed into his chest, his arm thrown over her side. She had moved them under the covers at one point, though he wasn't sure how he'd been able to move even a single muscle after she had so thoroughly sexed him. He looked down at her shoulder and neck and felt compelled to kiss the creamy skin there.

"This is my favorite part…" he said, running a hand down the dip in her waist, and back up over her thick hips.

"Noooo…" she moaned. "I hate my hips."

"Crazy witch. Definitely my favorite… or here…" he ran his hands along her backside, down and cupping her cheek. "Or here." he continued down to her thigh.

"No, absolutely not. Not the thighs."

"What's wrong with your thighs?" he asked.

"They are huge. I could take someone out with those things."

"God please." he laughed and gave into the compulsion to kiss her neck. She smelled like Lemongrass there and he knew it was because of him. He was damn glad he had given her that oil.

"You're a very strange man, Neville Longbottom."

"Why? Because I like your curves?"

"No - because you like me."

He nuzzled at her shoulder and hugged her tight. "I think I more than like you." he admitted, even if it scared him.

"I think I more than like you too." she said without hesitation. Then she said, "I think my favorite part is your arms."

He laughed out loud. "My arms?"

"Yes… they are very strong. You can pick me up and I know you wouldn't drop me."

"Couldn't Phil pick you up?" he asked softly.

"He could… but well… he was a runner and built like it too."

"A shame."

"Psh… he had endurance." she argued.

He squeezed her thigh. "What else do you like?"

She made a mmm'ing sound as he continued to squeeze and massage her thigh. "I like your shoulders. They are very… thick."

"Hannah," he swallowed. "She was all curves too."

"I remember her as lovely." Rose offered him, her voice gentle. "I remember being very jealous of her hair, my mother always made me chop mine off."

He ran his fingers through the thick, tangled strands of her black hair. "It's beautiful."

She snorted and sank further into the curve of his body. "That's kind."

"What else about me is thick?" he said, deciding to distract her from the sad turn of their conversation.

"Neville." she complained. "I need to make dinner for Penny, would you like to stay?"

"I would… but it would mess up my plan."

"It's working you know. She's just about ready to forgive you." she untangled herself from him and threw her legs over the edge of the bed, stretching out. "And what about us?" she asked softly, turning her head to look at him. "Are you still very angry with me?"

He shook his head. "You can make it up to me. Lots."

She hit him with her pillow. "I'm opening my shop tomorrow… again. If you want to stop by."

He leaned up and pressed his lips to hers, kissing her slowly and sweetly. "You can count on it."


	14. Lemongrass

Lemongrass grows like tall grass, with sharp blades and a fragrant citrus smell.

While Rose spent all morning readying her shop for a second, hopefully successful, grand opening, she kept an eye out for the man who had become her lover. The man who was slowly healing the little cracks in her soul she hadn't realized were there. And wasn't that the kicker? She thought she had been doing alright after Phil had died, she thought she had kept it together for her daughter.

But the more time she spent with Neville, the more she realized how disconnected she had been since the moment she became Rose instead of Pansy. Almost like she had split herself into two. All this time since she slipped out of Diagon Alley that bitterly cold winter night and became Primrose Parker, she had thought she had forgiven herself for the things she had done in her past. Those first few years on her own she spent so much time learning to love herself that she thought she had also fixed the broken pieces of her soul.

But now, she realized, no matter how old you are, how many years go by, there was always room to grow. Neville, who looked at her like she was light, who kissed her like he never wanted to kiss anyone else, who was doing his absolute best to win over Penny - he was also making Rose see that there was a chasm inside her that had once been Pansy Parkinson, and while that girl had been a bitter bully, there had been good things about her that Rose had crushed into nothing. She just had to figure out how to bring the two parts of her self together. Eventually.

Thankfully, her second grand opening day was looking to be successful, far more than her first had been. Instead of a downpour of rain, the sun streamed through her skylight and her windows and lit the room up brilliantly, illuminating her neat rows of lotions, perfumes, shampoos, creams, and potions. The mere sight caused a swell of pride to roar up inside of her, followed by intense satisfaction.

She had done this. With the exception of a little elbow grease from Daphne, this shop was because of her doing, because of her hard work. And with that thought in her head, she propped her front door open with her beloved bucket of lemongrass, the blades longer than they had been the day she bought it, and just as fragrant.

She stepped out into the sunshine and smiled, flipping her OPENED sign to the front. Reaching into her pocket, she enlarged the sign Penny had painted for her, before staking it into the ground by the door. It read 'GRAND OPENING! ALL DAY - EVERYTHING BUY ONE, GET ONE!'.

She glanced over to Neville's shop, clearly seeing him through the big open window, his shirt a shade of blue that matched his eyes and tucked into his tight jeans. She watched as he sipped from his mug of coffee before stepping out of view, only to reappear a second later at his door. He propped that door open with the same giant clay pot he usually did and when his head turned in her direction and met her eyes, he leaned against the door frame and gave her a look that curled her toes in her shoes and made her heart hurt.

"Mornin'," he called out across the street as if he were just her neighbor being polite, not like he'd been in her bed the day before, making her scream.

"Good morning," she returned with a grin. Penny was running around in the house, leaving a trail of destruction as usual. Which mean she could flirt shamelessly with the man across the street, at least for a minute or two. She was still supposed to be 'mad' at him.

He seemed to catch the glint in her eye and played along. "Finally getting that place opened for business, Russo?"

The early morning shoppers walking along the cobblestones gave curious looks in her direction, their eyes glancing at her sign.

Rose felt the sides of her lips twitching up. "Damn straight."

"It's about time!" he called out.

They laughed and Rose stepped aside as a couple curiously wandered into her shop. Her first customers.

It was busier than she predicted, but not so much that she could brag. She made Penny and Fiona go hand out flyers after lunchtime and about an hour after that Daphne stopped by with all the girls from her office, a group of ten women who raided her shelves and supplies as Rose explained what it all did and what was good for what. They left with bags full of lotions and perfumes and Rose's till was fuller for it. Daphne stayed behind to help out and Rose knew her time was up.

"Spill it." Daph said a bit later. "Something's going on and I want to know right now."

"Of course something is going on, it's my grand opening!" Rose teased as she walked by and into her supply closet.

"Don't play dumb, it doesn't work on me." Daphne pointed her finger sharply in her direction, the nail painted bright pink to match her lipstick. "There's something more going on between you and Neville than him upsetting Penny."

Rose just shrugged as she suppressed the urge to smile at the mention of Neville, and carried a box out to the front. Her work day was going perfect so far, but she hadn't seen or heard from Neville since she first opened her door that morning. But when Penny came back with Fiona she carried an armful of what appeared to be new paint supplies wrapped up with a giant red bow and another note.

"Mother," she said with the drama and purposeful irritation of a pre-teen.

"Child? Did you go to see Neville? I thought we were still mad at him?" Rose asked, trying to read what this note said.

"I am still mad at him!" Penny insisted but her voice betrayed her, Rose knew all her moods. She realized then Penny was exploiting Neville. And it made her laugh because Penny only ever did that with her dad. It was the one Slytherin trait she possessed, that sneakiness she would unleash on Phil to get what she wanted. But she'd only ever done it with Phil.

Penny scrunched her face dramatically, putting the package on the counter. "We stopped for ice cream and Ms. Fortescue said it had already been paid for! And then she gave me this and laughed, said it was from her favorite neighbor. She's a bit batty, have you noticed?"

"Supplies huh?" Rose peaked at the array of paints and brushes wrapped up so prettily and ignored the comment on Ms. Fortescue, who wasn't at all batty but rather eccentric. "I have to admit, kid, he's trying really hard."

"Who gave you that gift, Penny?" Daphne asked from the register.

"Mr. Longbottom. He's sent others as well. Trying to apologize." Penny rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out.

"Ahh. Is that so?" Daphne shot a look towards Rose. "Is that sooo?"

"Penny, what would it take to get you to forgive him?" Rose asked, stepping causally closer to Daphne trying to draw Penny's eye in that direction. Because the very subject of their conversation had just walked into the shop carrying a giant bucket full of Verbena and Lemongrass. His eyebrows shot up at her words and he paused quietly, setting the bucket down by the door.

Penny turned to look at Fiona, the girl leaning her head in as they whispered quickly back and forth. The hushed whispered tone was serious as the two girls pressed their foreheads together.

Rose took the moment to glance at Neville, her mouth forming the word 'Hey'. She got caught up in the blue of his eyes and the smitten smile on his face and completely missed the movement of Daphne's elbow. She got Rose right in the side.

"I knew it." Daph whispered at her just as Penny and Fiona both nodded and turned toward them.

"A kitten." they said together.

"A what?" Rose laughed. Then made herself straighten her face. "A what?"

"A kitten!" they said again. Penny continued, "We can take it to Hogwart's with us and it'll be ours."

Daphne crossed her arms. "What if you two end up in different houses?"

"Aunt Daphne you can't be serious?" - "Like that would happen."

The pair spoke in unison again, and Rose laughed. "So the only way you will forgive Neville is if you get a kitten?"

"And he has to apologize for hurting your feelings!"

"A kitten and an apology," she said softly. "A good one." She looked over Penny's head and met Neville's wink as he slipped out of the door as quietly as he had come in.

"I'll let him know then…"

"But you know I've kind of already forgiven him. I miss going to his garden and hanging out." Penny admitted.

Rose leaned forward and pressed her daughter tight against her side. "Next time you see him, let him apologize and tell him you forgive him. I'm sure you guys can still be friends."

"Okay - I will." Penny grabbed the wrapped package from the counter and then gently nudged Fiona.

"Oh - Mrs. Russo? Can Penny spend the night at my house please? My mum says it's fine." Fiona clasped her hands together, begging in the sweetest voice she could muster.

"You two are both menaces and I'd be glad to have you out of my hair for the night." Rose said after pretending to consider it for a moment. "Now get out of here, I'm working."

They hugged her and ran off, both of them disappearing through the back door together laughing like maniacs. "Those two…" Rose sighed happily.

Daphne waited exactly one second after the back door shut firmly before she whirled around and pointed her finger right into Rose's face. "You. Talk. Now."

Laughing softly, Rose said, "What would you like to know Daph?"

"Everything."

A couple walked in, browsed and said hello to Rose, bought a bottle of perfume and left. "What else has he gotten Penny?"

Rose sighed happily. "The roses are beautiful, the pancake breakfast was delicious, but the chocolate he sent were from Divina's."

"Be still my beating heart. They have these chocolate covered cherries that are orgasmic." Daph said, fanning her face.

"I'll have to take your word on it, considering I can barely afford a napkin from that place. Penny and I ate the whole box. For dinner."

"I would have too." Daphne laughed. "Chocolate from Divina's... that proves just how interested he is in you. Spill!"

"I have a question first." Rose said, walking over towards the front door. She knelt down and brought a stem of the vividly bright purple verbena to her nose and breathed the scent that was more herby than floral. It paired perfectly with the tart smelling lemongrass.

"I did sleep with him." Daphne said, hopping up onto the counter and pulling out her cellphone, reminding Rose of the day she had moved to Diagon Alley.

"Damn it, Daph."

"You can't be jealous. It was a long time ago." her find said, her fingers dancing across the buttons. "I leave the office for a few hours and everything falls apart…"

"I'm not," Rose said, ignoring Daphne's mumbling. "Honestly. I'm just curious as to why you acted so surprised when I told you who my neighbor was, when you knew who it was I was speaking of all along."

"I thought he would be a good rebound for you, after Phil."

Rose didn't have to ask why. There was something very kind and gentle about Neville Longbottom, something that prompted trust. Rose found herself getting easily lost in the memory of that first night together quite often and without warning. During dinner with Penny or brewing late a night. It was hard not to think of the absolute way he had about him that left no room for insecurity. She never once questioned his intentions and found comfort in the fact that he knew exactly what she had gone through when she lost Phil. But she didn't think Neville was a rebound.

"I wanted to meddle, Tory isn't as fun anymore with her domestic bliss, adoring husband, children to dote on." She snapped her phone case shut and looked up, met Rose's curious eyes.

They had known each other for so long, had been true friends for all that time. Rose hadn't been Rose, she had been Pansy and still Daphne stuck by her side. She knew all of Daphne's quirks, all her pet peeves, probably all of her secrets. She knew her signature looks and the ones not so often shown.

And Rose knew by the softening, smudgy look in Daphne's eyes that she was about to be honest when she didn't want to be. "You were so hurt after Phil died, and I can't imagine what you feel, but a night of good sex? That might help a little. And Neville - He's not looking for anything serious, he'll give you a fun night or two and then it'll be friendly from there. That sounds like exactly what you need. And bonus! He's obviously interested."

"So you're telling me to get a fuckbuddy?"

"I'm saying get your brains melted by Mr. Longbottom."

"And he'll lose interest after that?"

"He always does." Daph said, her voice back to the hard, certain quality she usually spoke with.

"Hmm..." Rose straightened, leaving the verbena on the ground by the door, and walked to her friend, clasping their hands together. "Daphne? We've been sleeping together since you took Penny to Paris."

"WHAT?!" Daphne fell off the counter, and this time it was out of total shock, not because she was playing dramatic.

oOoOo

It was just a few hours later when she locked up the front door with a feeling of immense satisfaction. Her day was a success and she felt so damn proud of herself she couldn't help but do a little jig, swinging her arms out and giving herself a Woo-hoo!

She made money, met knew people, nearly sold out all of her perfumes, and she managed to catch Daphne so far off guard she had fallen off the counter and onto her rump.

Absolute. Success.

She even managed to have a nice chat with Ginny Weasley and her horde of children, finding it easier and easier to talk to the witch the more effort they put into getting along. She liked Ginny's fiery spirit and she liked knowing she had another friend in the wizarding world.

She flipped her sign to CLOSED and double checked the locked door before she headed out the back with an armful of empty boxes she sat by the trash can there. Wiping her hands she turned to make sure the gate was locked when she heard a slight shuffle above her. She looked up curiously and watched as Neville peered down at her from the roof of her shop.

"Hey," he said when she grinned. "Are you finished for the day?"

"Maybe. What are you doing on my roof?"

"Checking for holes," he laughed. "Want to join me?"

She pulled at the ladder instead of answering and carefully climbed her way up. As Neville helped her step out onto the roof, she saw he had laid out a picnic, complete with a comfy blanket and lit candles. He clasped tightly on her hand and pulled her down next to him. "Congratulations on your first day."

"Thank you," she accepted the wine glass he held out and caught sight of his shirt pocket.

"Oh oh oh -" Rose laughed at the adorable picture he presented. "That is too cute."

"Like my choice?" he asked, lifting the sleeping kitten up gently from his pocket and holding it out for Rose to take. "It's a boy."

He was mostly a bluish grey fur that stuck out in all directions. "What are you doing getting her a kitten as cute as this?"

"I know when I'm being exploited. But there's something about you Russo's that make me want to spoil you rotten." he said, he leaned in and rested his elbow on his bent knee.

She couldn't help the way her body responded, automatically leaning in towards him as if pulled by a string. "I hope you weren't expecting sympathy from me."

He pulled the kitten back into his hands without breaking eye contact, held it up and in a higher pitched voice said, "Please forgive the nice man that brought me home from the shop. He's so sorry and so-o-o-o handsome."

Laughing, she pushed at his shoulder. "St-op. Ha ha."

"Please nice lady, please." Neville continued, using his fingers to move the paws of the sleepy kitten. "Pl-eeease."

"Neville," she leaned up and captured his lips with her own. "Neville."

He tucked the kitten between them protectively, while his other hand came up to her cheek, his thumb brushing gently just under her cheek. It was, perhaps, the most tender moment they had ever shared.

And while she couldn't pinpoint why that was, she could tell Neville felt the same. He said, "Where'd Penny run off to? I have the ultimate apology to make after all."

"Actually," Rose bit her lip. "Penny is spending the night at Fiona's so she isn't here."

"Oh?" Neville smirked. "Just you, me, and the kitty?"

She shot him a dark look at his suggestive tone and slipped off her tennis shoes. "Luckily she's already forgiven you." He held her wine glass for her as she pushed her shoes away and stretched her feet. "Ahhh... I had a really good day," she admitted to him with a big smile.

"It looked pretty steady for you. You still have a few more weeks before school starts, busy season." Neville said, taking one of her feet in his hand and digging his fingers into her heel. She barely suppressed the moan she wanted to make.

"It was steady - oooh - I just feel so," she paused. "Satisfied."

"I know the feeling," he smiled again as he pressed into her feet. "Running your own store, it's a handful and some days you'll want to pull your hair out through your eyes."

"Hair out through your eyes?" she asked.

"Yes - trust me. You'll know exactly what I'm talking about." They laughed. "But it's worth it."

"So what did you pack?" she nodded towards the small basket.

"Essentials." he unpacked it in front of her. "Fancy cheese, less fancy crackers, and really really fancy chocolate. I'll keep rubbing your feet if you want to feed me."

The sudden image she had of him sucking chocolate from her fingers made her toes curl, which he noticed immediately. "Mmm deal."

She fed them both cheese and crackers as he massaged the aches from her feet and they talked and flirted like they usually did, the two of them settling into an easy rhythm. Then she switched to the bits of chocolate he had.

"Neville are you loaded or something? How do you keep getting these chocolates from Divina's?"

"Oh I know the owner." he said, picking out a chocolate covered cherry and popping it into her mouth. The chocolate was dark, the cherry tart. It melted in her mouth and made her pause. She put a hand over her mouth and moaned. He smiled and fed her another.

"You know everyone," she said after she spent far too long savoring the chocolate.

"Trina's really fun, bit obsessed with chocolate though. She reminds me of Daphne, I think you'd like her."

"Did you - " she started, and then stuffed a whole cracker in her mouth to keep herself from talking when she realized what she was about to ask.

"What?"

"No-ting..." she said with a mouthful of cracker.

"Did I...? What? Sleep with her?"

She chewed on the cracker that was far too dry without the cheese and looked away. "It's not my business."

"Does it bother you?" he asked, tugging on her ankle.

"No." she sat up. "I'm just old, Neville."

Whatever he'd been expecting, it wasn't that. "Come again?"

"I feel old. I'm a widow, with a daughter about to go to Hogwart's. I don't want a fling, if that's what this is."

"Uhm. So we're having the talk."

"No - god no I'm sorry. Forget it."

"Rosie." he pulled her ankle towards him, his hand sliding up her leg until he could grab onto her arm, pulling her under him with a sleek move.

"Neville - wait -" he pinned her down with his hips and brought his fingers to her face, running them along her cheekbones and down the curve of her nose. She wrapped her legs around his hips and dug her fingers into his hair.

"I hate the talk," he mumbled against her lips. "There's much more interesting things we could be doing besides having that talk."

"I know, forget I said any-" he kissed her, holding her head in place as he made the both of them breathless. "-thing..."

"Sooo, get through your head now. I don't play games and I don't cheat."

"I didn't think you did!" she said, out of breath.

"So what do you want?" he asked, pushing the hair from her face.

She let out a breath and thought about it. What did she really want from him? Suddenly, she thought of Phil. Of the way he had flirted with her all throughout her friend's graduation party until she caved and when she finally agreed to go out with him, he'd kissed her in front of everyone. Hadn't Neville sort of kind of done the same? Her cheeks had burned red with with the way he had flirted with her the first few weeks after she'd moved to Diagon Alley. His flirting... and the way he had looked at her ass every time she turned around. And then, when she least expected it, he'd kissed chocolate frosting off her lip.

She had to admit, they were pretty good together. The sex was amazing and he didn't seem to be going anywhere, anytime soon. She couldn't find it in herself to think Daphne was right, that he'd lose interest. Not when he seemed to genuinely care about Penny. "Just be good to my kid."

"Do you think I wouldn't be?" he tugged on her ear.

"You did make her cry."

"And if any other boy makes her cry I'm going to murder them."

"That's what I want to hear."

He kissed her again and she indulged herself by running her hands through his hair, tugging at the strands.

"Ouch." he pouted.

"Neville, what do you want?" she asked, running a finger over his swollen lips. She had the impression she'd caught him off guard again with her question.

"Uhm." he said, shaking his head. "No one's ever asked me that before, not since..."

"Hannah." she finished for him. "What did you tell her?"

He groaned and rolled them over, pulling her on top of him and resting his head under his arm. "This is just another way of having the relationship talk."

"Right... more interesting things." she pushed her hair to the side and leaned in for a kiss. "You know I've never done it on a roof before."

His eyes lit up at her confession and he grabbed onto her hips suggestively. "You know my house has a sitting area on the roof. We could put some comfy furniture up there and get extra, extra comfy."

She looked over to his shop, eyeing the steep incline of the roof. "Uh?"

"No, that's the shop."

"And I thought you, you know, lived there. The room in the back with the bed?"

"I do love that snark. I have a house you know. It's a family home. Far too big for just me."

"A family home? Or a bachelor pad?"

Laughing, he said, "My gran used to live there!"

"And now? Leather chairs? Dry bar? Animal print silk sheets?" she laughed with him.

"No. Definitely not. It has tons of bedrooms, a big bathroom with a big tub," he pulled her closer. "A potions room."

She put a hand on his chest and pushed away slightly. "You sound like Daph now, trying to sell me a house?"

"I'm just talking about my house!"

"You want me to move in?"

"Yeah, why not?"

She shook her head. "You can't even have the relationship talk with me."

"If we have the talk, would you move in with me?" he asked sweetly, then he reached up and tugged on her hair.

"I-" she sat up and looked around. "Aww."

She spotted the kitten as it meowed and stumbled adorably across the blanket, cautiously coming towards them. She picked it up gently and cuddled it to her chest. "Why, why oh why, did you get Penny a real kitten? I was expecting some stuffed animal."

"I'm sorry, did you or did you not see her when she stomped on my toe? I couldn't half ass an apology, my toes can't take anymore."

She eyed his smirk. "You enjoyed it. You did."

"Yeah." he admitted. "She was kind of magnificent. Why didn't you and Phil have more kids?"

She placed the kitten on his chest, where it curled up and tucked his nose into his paws. Then she rolled off Neville and sat beside him instead, crossing her legs. "He didn't want anymore."

"That's what Hannah promised me." he said so quietly she almost didn't hear him, and he looked away.

They were silent for awhile, Neville's fingers gently petting the kitten while Rose sat beside him and the sun slowly set over Diagon Alley. And she finally understood why Ginny Weasley was so angry with Hannah Abbott even though the girl had been dead for all these years. She wanted to reach back through time and slap the girl, make her keep her promises to Neville. She called forth the image she had of Hannah, tried to imagine little children running around with her freckles and his blue eyes. How happy they would've made Neville. Rose wanted him to be happy.

She sucked in a breath. She wanted to make him happy. The picture of freckled children turned dark headed, with blue or purple eyes and a big sister to dote on them. With that realization ringing in her head, she laid down again, lifting his arm to wrap around her as she laid her head on his shoulder. "Well, there we go. The talk. It's done. We had it."

He looked at her, eyebrows raised. "We did?"

"Yes." she looked up at him. "I know what you want."

"Oh?" he pressed her closer along his side. "And you're going to give me what I want?"

"Yes," they laid there, arms entwined, as the stars popped out one by one. The kitten curled up on Neville's chest yawned and stretched and Rose couldn't help but smile. "Of course, you have to get Penny's forgiveness first."


	15. Epilogue

Epilogue

Penelope Harper Russo walked into the 'big house' as she had called it on the day she had moved into Neville's family home the same day she turned 13 years old, a worn leather backpack slung over one shoulder and her rolled up canvases in their protective sleeve in her other hand, along with her camera bag. Wearing a ripped pair of shorts and a worn tee shirt with her favorite leather twined necklace bouncing against her chest between her braids, she caught sight of the ornamental brooch that hung from the string. A jeweled Peony in a range of pinks and purples that her mother had given her the day she turned 17. Usually she wore it at the neck of her cloak, but during the warmer months she had taken the habit of wearing it around her neck.

She just loved it so much, in a way she had never loved an object before. Her 17th birthday had been stormy, her favorite kind of weather, and her mother had sat her down and given her a velvety box with the brooch inside. Her favorite color was a constantly changing thing.

She'd see a plant or a flower in a vivid shade and suddenly that was her new favorite color. The next day she'd see another and fall in love all over again. But the moment she'd open that velvet box and seen the purple gemstones, something had changed. And while she still had moments where a sunset orange or a emerald green would catch her heart, eventually she'd lean back towards purple.

Now the brooch clinked gently against the Peace sign pendant Fiona had given her and the silver banded ring with a lone milky white moonstone Cory had given to her the first time he told her he loved her.

She didn't particularly want to see Corwin "Stupid-Head' Cooper ever again - but for some reason she couldn't bare to part with the ring no matter how many times she tried to throw it in the trash. It was the kind of moonstone that shimmered every color when it caught a certain light, and as she'd become a photographer major, she'd become very good and finding the right light.

The foyer was empty of any furniture except for a very worn shoe rack that held 4 rows of a variety of shoes, glittering princess shoes in every color, worn sneakers, striped and polka dotted rain boots. The curtains on the window were old and familiar and blew gently in the early summer breeze coming through the opened windows. She could tell it might storm later. Her heart kicked - it smelled like home.

Kicking off her own muddy boots, and mentally preparing for her mom to scold her for her newest celtic tattoo the boots had been hiding, she dropped her pack and walked through the hallway that led into the big, open living area that led into an even bigger kitchen.

The large floor to ceiling fireplace was empty and quiet. Those rooms and the small sitting room on the other side made up the first floor, and as she listened she could only hear the muted silence of an empty house. The second and third floors had bedrooms, and the top floor was an open studio. The roof was flat, with an elaborate garden area that her step dad kept in excellent shape, and a sitting area where her mother could most likely be found if the light was good.

A day like today, with a warm summer breeze blowing and the blue sky stretching in every direction, dotted with the grey clouds she loved so much, it was a good bet Penny would find her mother there. She took the steps to the third floor, dropping her canvases and the expensive camera onto her bed, which had been made with fresh sheets in the last day or so. A vase full of yellow roses sat on her drawing desk and it made her heart soar, knowing she was home after a long semester at school. Her step-dad had a habit of showering her, her mother, and her 3 - now 4 - little sisters with flowers at any occasion, or even just because he felt like it. Though she wasn't his daughter by blood, he'd always saved those particular flowers just for her.

She didn't take the moment to indulge, even knowing the scent of the sunshine yellow roses was her favorite. Instead she grabbed her camera and took the stairs up to the next floor, and slid into the smaller stairway that led to the roof. She unlatched the large wooden door with quick fingers and emerged into the sun. Tall walls of greenery lined the walkway that led from the door, herbs and flowers in full bloom, fragrant and lively in a way that spoke of home to her. She could hear her mother's soft laughter, she smiled, and decided to be bad before she revealed herself.

She peeked through the falling, green leaves of a plant and caught sight of her mother, cradling her newest sister in her arms as she sat on the weather-proof loveseat that was her favorite. Neville sat next to them, his arm around Rose, his other hand on Josie. It was the exact moment she had been hoping to witness, and as quietly as she could she withdrew her camera from it's protective black bag and set in the lens, focusing it through the small gap she had created in the plants. She snapped several photos, happy the light was cooperating, and then tried to find a different angle, barely keeping in a sigh when her baby sister lifted two little fists into the air. As she clicked away, Neville leaned in and kissed her mama proving that even after being married for nearly 10 years and having 4 kids together the passion was still alive and well.

"Penelope. Harper. Russo."

"Oops." she laughed loud enough for them to hear.

"You think I can't hear that camera snapping from behind there?" her mother called to her, looking up and directly at Penny.

She snapped another picture, and breathed out a sigh of success. Her mother's head was tilted towards the light, her eyes full of happiness and staring into the camera. Neville, with his ankle resting on his knee, his arm around his wife that he was looking at with adoration, and the baby between, was set against the blue of the sky and the tips of the tall trees in the distance. It was a happy picture, and Penny was pleased the light hadn't messed it up.

Sometime after her first year at the art institute, she realized she had an affinity for photography and asked her parents for a camera. She enjoyed mixing her art with magic, and she loved taking stills as well as magical photos. Though she'd still rather paint landscapes than take a picture of them. No she wanted to photograph people, and paint landscapes.

"I'm not sneaky like you are." Penny called, grabbing her bag and taking the steps around the walls of plants. By the time she got to the open part of the roof, Josie was gurgling happily in her cradle, and Penny found herself in her mother's arms, Neville standing close.

Verbena and Lemongrass.

That's what her mother smelled like to Penny, for as long as she could remember. Ever since she was itty bitty and her mother could still hold her, those were the scents she associated with her.

"I'm so happy you're home!" her mama said to her, her thin but strong arms tightening around Penny's shoulders. "Are you hungry?"

"No, I ate earlier. And me too! I have so much to show you! Where are the girls?!" Penny couldn't help but gush. She never minded that she was so many years older than her siblings, it was only because of her schooling that she went long periods without seeing them. It just meant she got to spoil them senseless when she was home and not feel bad about it.

"Should be home in time for dinner, they are with Ginny and Harry today." Neville answered her as he scooped her up and gave her a hug that nearly broke her in half. "Welcome home Penny."

Penny laughed when her feet touched back down. "And what's this?" she asked, touching a finger to the thick streak of grey in his otherwise dark brown hair.

"Your sisters of course. Ruby spends all her time with Winnie and Artie, pranking everything that moves. Kylie has managed to set two different fires in the last week alone. And Dani has taken to jumping off high ledges ever since she figured out she will just bounce."

"And whose fault is that?" her mama laughed, bumping into Neville gently.

"I didn't drop her. She jumped!" Neville insisted, bumping back.

It was the kind of thing lovers did, Penny thought. And she had witnessed it from the get go from her parents. Neville would still scoop up her mother and twirl her around like they were love sick teenagers. It was the kind of thing she wanted to capture with her art - and it was the kind of thing her and Cory lacked.

Corwin had gone to school with her and Fiona, all of them in the same year and sorted into Gryffindor together. They had been the best of friends, until he asked out Penny in 5th year, broke her heart at Christmas. And then again right before NEWTS.

And the summer before her second year in art school… ugh. She had done her share of heartbreaking, she silently admitted to herself. Her and Cory were combustible. Nothing either of them did could stop the inevitable crash that always came when they decided to hook up. It would be all heat and passion until there was fighting and yelling.

She finally figured it out after that one rough year in school. Cory and her were too alike, too head strong and far too stubborn for it to ever work between them. He was just too young. She wanted what her parents had. What her mother had with her dad, and then later what she had with Neville - the good for the soul and good for the heart kind of love. The kind of passion that leaked into her artwork and the dedication that even when life got tough they still had each other.

Her mother dragged them over to sit down on the comfortable chairs and without any fanfare placed a happy, bubble spitting baby into Penny's arms. "Nice to meet you Josephina Alice. I'm your big sister, Penelope. But you can call me Penny."

Big bluish purple eyes looked up at her before she broke into a smile and waved her fists around some more. Her head was full of black hairs that straight up. A mirror image of her sisters.

Her parents fell into their usual position, Neville's arm around her mother's shoulder and their fingers threaded together. Happy. Content.

Penny was just so damn pleased to see her her mother doing okay, and, not for the first time, felt glad they had decided to move to Diagon Alley all those years ago. She hadn't realized it when she was 10, but her mama had been hurting when her daddy had died. It had taken Neville Longbottom to make Penny realize her mama had been split in two. One side warring with a past she felt like she couldn't escape and a mother desperate to give her child everything she deserved and more. It had added up to a lot of hurts Penny never saw as a child, a lot of hurts that Neville had somehow healed. She was thankful for that man.

"I used to call you my sunshine baby, because nothing ever made you sad." her mother was saying as she petted her cheek. "But my Jojo seems just as happy."

Penny cradled Josie even closer, the tiny baby giving a sleepy, toothless yawn before falling asleep. Then she settled into easy conversation with her parents, catching up on news of the family and the shops they ran. Everything from Quidditch scores, to this cousin and that, what her sisters were up to and the trouble they caused. She told them about her plans with Fiona that summer - the beach, followed by a trip to Paris for her birthday. She took the scolding from her mama about the celtic design on her ankle and laughed when Neville said it looked cool.

Then laughed harder when her mama asked about Cory and Neville literally growled. "You're not still messing around with that boy are you?" The words 'that boy' said with absolute disdain.

"No - definitely not! He's a jerk!" she said. "If I ever see him again I'll stomp on his toes and throw a potted plant at his head."

"That's my girl." Neville said proudly, stealing Josie from her arms. "You hear that Jojo? That's how you deal with boys. No boys until you're at least 30."

"That number goes up every time you have a kid, Nev!" Penny laughed.

"Yeah well I know how boys act around pretty girls."

Her mother made a hmming sound. "You know Penny… I've thrown my fair share of potted plants at Neville's head - and I think he secretly likes it."

"I do not secretly like that. One day you'll knock my head off my shoulders and then what will you do?"

"Rejoice? Celebrate? Cheer!"

"Hey -"

"Stop using me to flirt with each other." Penny said, narrowing her eyes, but smiling.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." her mother said happily. "All I'm saying is you still wear that ring on your neck."

"It's a memento of my first love." Penny insisted, her hand grabbing the very object they spoke of. She pretended it wasn't something she often did, caressing the ring mindlessly when she was working or studying. "I don't love Cory anymore. The opposite actually. I hate him! He could go choke on a treacle tart for all I care."

"Ah baby girl… but the opposite of love isn't hate, it's indifference."

"Please mama! I haven't even seen him since… since Christmas."

"And that's the last time you heard from him?" her mother asked knowingly. Ugh! Curse her.

Why did Mother's seem to know everything? Because she in fact, had a letter burning a hole in her pocket at that very second and a letter from Cory was dangerous. He always had a way with words. And he had always known exactly what to say to get Penny to melt, even if they hadn't technically been dating in two years now.

The letter in her pocket had made her blush in places she didn't know could blush. But she was about to turn 23, and she just couldn't do the on and off again thing with Cory anymore.

"Pretty much," she lied. "Why are we talking about him anyways? Want to see the canvasses I painted for the girls?"

She ran and grabbed them as her parents excitedly encouraged her, and gave the appropriate oohs and ahhs. Even Neville with his limited knowledge could appreciate the hard work she put into the paintings. That was the thing about her step dad, he never ever managed to make her feel like she wasn't one of his kids.

Yeah - she was damn happy he was her dad now.

"What is Fiona up to?"

She was about to launch into the success of her best friend and the achievement of her Master Charms certificate the witch had recently completed when she was interrupted by the sound of the floo going off, followed by a loud yelp and an even louder crash of noise. "The girls!"

She dashed down to the lower floors, stomping her way down the steps. She caught sight of the line of her little sisters being herded by her favorite aunt Daphne, and by Ginny and Harry. Ruby with her black hair cut short and her bright dress muddy and knees scraped, Kylie, with her reddish brown hair braided and her colorful outfit neat and spotless, and a just walking Danielle with her mismatched shoes and a big flower painted on her chubby cheek all barreled at her the moment they realized their big sister was home.

"Hey!" Penny laughed. "I've been waiting for hours!"

They crashed into her and took her down easily where she wrapped the three little girls in her arms and held on tight.

"You have a new tattoo!" - "I love your hair!" - "We played Quidditch all morning!" - "How long are you home for!" - "Do you wanna paint, big sissy?"

She blew a kiss to her Aunt Daph and nodded a hello to her pseudo aunt and uncle, Ginny and Harry, as Dani climbed onto her back. "Sissy!"

"My little monsters!"

Her mother came over and placed Josie into the fray, Penny making sure the baby's head was supported. Then she spotted her camera and laughed. "Mama! I'm the photographer, not the subject."

"This time you are. I don't have a picture of all my girls together!"

Laughing, Penny felt like sunshine, despite the letter burning a hole in her pocket. She was surrounded by her family.

She was home.

The End...?


End file.
